Past & Present
by RoseOnAVine
Summary: COMPLETE! Rachel must choose between her past and future - will tragedy be the result? Alternate S10, JR with some RP, rated R for sexual content.
1. Prologue Part 1: Barbados

****

Past & Present

Prologue Part 1: Barbados

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters – but Joey can kick my hotel room door shut anytime he wants to.

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story begins in episode 923/924 (TO In Barbados) and will continue into S10 (which, at the time of this writing, has not been filmed or aired, and no reliable spoilers exist). I suspect that when S10 rolls around, Joey will be used by the writers to push Ross and Rachel back together so that long time fans of the show can finally have an RnR wedding in the finale. As the world's most devoted JnR fan, this horrifies me. Before that has a chance to happen, I want to do S10 my way.

The song used in this piece is "Untitled" by Interpol. It's the song they used in the episode as Joey was knocking on Rachel's hotel room door. It played until the scene faded to black.

So, read, review, and enjoy. **Reviews are very important to me and I will only continue if there is quite a bit of reader interest. **I'm actually very nervous about posting this, I've never written this type of story before and I don't know if people will love it or hate it. 

Most of all, to you readers of "Joey's Diary" who sent me your thoughts about this story – thank you!

~*~*~*~*~  


__

"Can you really live the rest of your life never knowing what we could have been?" – Joey as Dr. Drake

~*~*~*~*~

Rain. Pounding the crystal white sand of the beach, stirring the sea just outside her hotel room. Rain trickling down her window pain in slow, lazy streams. Rain dripping off the emerald green expanse of tropical flora that sprung up from the ground, its fresh fragrance mixing with the salty tang of ocean breezes to create an intoxicating perfume. 

It seemed as if the rain would never end.

The meteorologist on the Weather Channel continued her predictions of wet weather for the island of Barbados with such a self-satisfied smile that Rachel Green felt an unreasonable hatred of her. She refrained from snarling an insult at the television screen, instead turning it off with an annoyed click of the remote control. The room was suddenly quiet other than the constant lulling sounds of the rain and the ocean.

Rachel chewed her thumbnail in her agitation. There was nothing for her to do. Everyone else was either happily paired off or busy with the convention. The weather ruled out having any island fun – not that she wanted to have fun alone. "Fun" and "alone" were two words that did not go together in Rachel's view of life. She thought back to the day before and how she and Joey had crashed that pharmacist convention. They'd had such a good time, but then, they always had a good time together, even when doing something that their friends would consider too silly to participate in. Memories of playing the drums together at midnight and having wet paper towel fights in the living room played on the screen of her mind like a home movie, causing her to smiled wistfully.

__

It's not like we can't hang out or have fun together anymore, she reminded herself._ I just have to stop expecting more than that._

Rachel sighed. She was bored and lonely, but most of all, she was disappointed.

She wandered over to the window and watched the rain falling. The weather seemed to mirror her deflated emotions. A deep discontent weighed on her as she remembered her recent conversation with Joey. 

He had seemed so sure of his answer, so final, that it left her little room for hope. She knew him well enough to realize that he had strong feelings about certain issues, and this was one of them. It wasn't that he had stopped wanting to be with her - she knew better. Their mutual longing had been palpable during those few moments when they had considered taking their relationship to a new level. But he had resisted it without question. His refusal to betray Ross held greater sway over him than the opportunity to be with her. She was let down, but she wouldn't have him any other way. His strong sense of right and wrong was one of the reasons she trusted him. He was the one person in her life that she knew would never hurt her. She had accepted his decision without pushing him to change his mind out of respect for his convictions. It was just her bad luck that such an admirable quality was going to keep them apart. 

That didn't mean it was easy for him, either. She had caught the tortured expression that passed across his face after he told her that he was sorry that nothing could ever happen. 

__

Tortured, she thought, _but determined._

There was nothing else for her to do. _I had my chance with him when he first told me how he felt, _she thought_, and I blew it. _She pressed her flushed face against the cool pane of her window. No point in dreaming about it anymore. It was over. It had never even begun. There would be no chance to find out what they could have been together. Thoughts of being with him had possessed her for the past month like a fever. It was proving difficult to cut those feelings off. The loss was more disappointing than she had expected it to be. 

__

I guess our timing was wrong, she told herself. _When he wanted me, I didn't want him. Now that I want him, he's going to let Ross stop it from happening. _

She was startled out of her reverie by a knock on her door, five insistent raps. 

Who was coming to bother her now? She instantly ruled out Monica and Chandler, who had an adjoining room and would have used the common door. She suppressed her annoyance as she moved to answer the knock. Her spirits were low and she didn't feel much like putting on a happy face for anyone. It was a pleasant surprised to see Joey standing on the other side of the door when she opened it. At least they could be disappointed together. 

But he didn't look disappointed. 

He was looking down at her with a mixture of joy and excitement. More than a hint relief was emanating from his dark eyes. Something else, happiness beyond rapture or any word she could conjure up to describe it, filled his face with intensity.

"What?" 

He moved in closer, surprising her by taking her in his arms. Before any questions could form, he silenced her by pressing his lips against hers in a kiss that sent her senses reeling. Too soon, he pulled back and looked in her eyes. She saw her answers in their brown depths. He had changed his mind. 

"Oh," she said in surprise. Her mind struggled to make the connection between the Joey she'd always known – _her_ Joey – and this stranger who was arousing such an unquenchable yearning within her.

His hand moved up, two fingers brushing her hair from her face. Her mind flashed back instantly upon the night when he'd told her that he was in love with her, over a year ago. She'd cried as she refused him, her heart aching from the knowledge that she was hurting him. Trying to comfort each other, he'd taken her in his arms and brushed her hair aside exactly the same way. It was a gesture of familiarity that now reminded her of everything that had passed between them, years of closeness. They were still the best of friends. This was no stranger. He was the friend who had seen her through everything and the man whose kisses left her with this breathless urgency. He had loved her then and he loved her now. She could trust him completely. In that moment, her questions vanished. She knew this was right. 

He was kissing her again and she returned it, her soaring passion matching his. Her arms moved up to embrace him, grasping his shoulders as his hands glided across the bare skin of her back. His touch was so gentle that it sent shivers of electricity down her spine.

Her thoughts were racing as a surge of desire rushed through her. The sounds of the rain falling on the churning waves outside mingled with that of their rapid breathing, creating a tide of dizzying sensations that threatened to drown out everything else. There was no need for words between them. This moment had been waiting to arrive. 

Unwilling to part with each other for even a second, he pushed the door to room 1202 shut with his foot, closing them off from the rest of the world.

__

Surprise, sometimes, will come around

Surprise, sometimes, will come around

I will surprise you sometime

I'll come around

Oh, I will surprise you sometime

I'll come around 

When you're down

****

A/N: Ok, this isn't going to turn out like you think it will! If this isn't the worst thing you've ever read and you want more, please review – thanks!


	2. Prologue Part 2: Barbados

****

Past & Present

Prologue Part 2: Barbados

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters – but Joey can kick my hotel room door shut anytime he wants to.

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here it is, part two of the prologue. You asked for more kisses and romance, and you got it! The hardest working writer in all of fanfics! I am going with a PG-13 rating for this, but it's probably bordering on a soft R. I can't find any guidelines of what constitutes an R rating on ff.net, so if you know more about this than I do and think I need to upgrade the rating, please let me know.

The positive reviews and emails mean everything to me, so keep them coming and I'll keep updating. Thanks!

~*~*~*~*~*~

Rachel felt as if she was falling backwards onto the bed, but Joey was guiding them both to a safe landing. Before she knew it the pillow was securely beneath her head. He had accomplished it all in one motion without interrupting their kiss.

It was really happening. This time she wasn't going to wake up during the best part.

All of her dreams and fantasies could not begin to match this exquisite reality. It wasn't just that his skills and technique were even better than she'd imagined, which was quite a feat - his considerable experience in this area was no secret. But they paled in comparison to how he was making her feel - this sensation of losing herself in him. It was more than physical desires or attraction, more than chemistry or pleasure. 

She felt the emotional connection flowing between them like an electrical current. His love for her was showing itself in every kiss, every touch. He held her face in his hands, kissing her with an agonizing slowness. When he whispered her name, she opened her eyes and looked into his, seeing an unspoken promise of love and trust. She could feel her boundaries collapsing, flowing into him like the tide rolling into the ocean just beyond the room.

They knew everything about each other, every detail of each other's daily life, all of the other's secrets, except this, the one thing they had never shared. And yet, this unexplored territory seemed like a familiar and safe place. It felt as natural as breathing, as elemental as the rain falling outside. It was an enticing mixture of both the known and the unknown coming together in one harmonious duet. 

Her thoughts began fade as their passions grew more heated and the body overtook the mind. She half-opened her eyes again and saw the hotel room in a shimmering haze, like a mirage on a blazing summer day. Her eyelids fluttered shut again. She could no longer sense anything around her but him. There was no past, no future, no time or space. Everything had ceased to exist except the present moment and the two of them, melded together in this breathless embrace.

Suddenly he broke away from her. She made a small sound of protest as he quickly sat up on the edge of the bed. She reached up, grabbing his arm to pull him back down to her. He resisted, picking his shirt and belt up off the floor. 

"Don't stop," she whined. They were both breathing like they'd just run the 100-yard dash. "Come on, we're not done yet." _Not even close,_ she added to herself.

"I can't do this." His voice was blunt. He was buttoning his shirt as if he had no intention of continuing.

His answer shocked her. She was silent as she tried to comprehend what was happening. 

"Why do you think you can't you do this?"

He turned to face her. "Because you're not ready."

She let out a groan of frustration. "Oh, God, Joey– I am _so_ ready! You did a thorough job of making me _totally_ ready."

"I don't mean _that_ way." He looked mildly embarrassed and plucked at he bedspread with his hand. "I'm saying, you're not ready to go this far with – with _us_."

Rachel pulled herself up to sit beside him, resigning herself to this sudden turn of events. As she studied his handsome face she could see that he was genuinely conflicted. Silencing her impatience, she began to stroke his arm slowly.

"I'm ready for us. I don't know exactly what the word "us" is going to mean in our case, but whatever it is, I'm ready."

"That's just it," he answered. "We don't know what this thing between us _is_ right now. I'm not going to do this until you are sure that you want something to happen between us after tonight."

"Can't we figure this out later?"

"No." His voice was firm. "I don't ever want it to be just a one-night stand with you and me."

"If I wasn't sure it was more than a one-nighter, it wouldn't have gone as far as it did."

"Don't you see? This is going to change everything. Not just with us, but with Ross, with everyone. As much as I want to -" his tone was becoming more emphatic – "and _believe me_, I want to – I think we should wait until we know where this is going. And if you don't stop touching me, I'm going to give in and do it anyway."

"Weren't you feeling something, when we were together? I mean, I've never –"

"Me either," he interrupted.

"That wasn't one-night stand stuff. That was –" she paused, searching for a word to describe the experience and failing. "I don't even know what word to use. That's how different it was from a one-night stand." She shrugged, trying to hide her disappointment. "Or anything else, for that matter."

She stood up and paced a few steps. On some level, she knew he was right, but was something else behind this? An unflattering explanation occurred to her. _This is too weird for him because it's me. Or worse - I didn't live up to his expectations._

She covered her eyes with her hands. "Oh my God - You changed your mind, didn't you? Now that we tried this, you don't want to anymore. Was it too weird? Is the way I kiss or - "

"No, no, no." he interrupted. "Rachel, I want you _so_ much. I never wanted anyone as much as I want you right now. You don't know what it took for me to stop. But I have to do what's right for us." He frowned, his eyes pleading for her to understand.

__

There's that tortured but determined expression again, she noted to herself. "You're probably right," she concluded in a weary voice.

"If you decide that there's a future for us – then, I _swear_, we will finish what we started. But I've waited for you too long. I can't mess it all up for one night, even for the greatest night of my life." He flashed a shy half-smiled. "It would have been great, you know."

She tilted her head to the side and smiled back at him. "Yeah, I know. That was a pretty amazing beginning, wasn't it?" She sat back down on the bed beside him.

"For the record, there is _nothing_ wrong with the way you kiss," he added.

"You're not so bad yourself." She punched his arm lightly.

"Hey, don't turn into one of those hittin' girlfriends." He caught her hand in his. "It's too hot here for me to wear all my shirts at the same time as protection."

"A hitting girlfriend? You mean like this?" She playfully punched his arm again with her free hand. He caught it deftly with his other hand. He was holding both of her hands and they were sitting dangerously close to each other on the bed.

"Joey," she whispered, "do you realize that you just called me your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, I kinda did." He watched her face for clues. "So – are you?"

"You know, I think I kinda am." 

Their eyes met. The air between them was virtually humming. Rachel bit her bottom lip, debating about what to do next.

"You're still holding my hands," she said, trying to break the tension.

"I know."

Instantly they were locked onto each other again, kissing with a hunger that defied reason. He was running his fingers through her long hair as she slipped her hands between them to begin unbuttoning his shirt again. Just as swiftly, he forced himself away from her again and stood up. 

Rachel closed her eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to compose her over-stimulated nerves. When she looked up, Joey was backing slowly towards the door.

"So, I think, uh - I think I'm just gonna go to my room for the night."

"Yeah, ok sweetie." She tried to make her voice sound natural, as if this were like the countless other times they'd said goodnight and gone to their separate rooms.

"Woah, look at the time!" He pointed to the clock. "I better get some shut eye if I want to get up early and dig a hole on the beach tomorrow before we leave."

She stood up and followed him to the door. "Sounds like a plan!"

"See you tomorrow, dude!" He gave her a high-five. 

"Back at ya!" She responded with a forced laugh.

"Alright," he said as he backed out of the door.

"You bet," she answered, closing it behind him.

__

And that's that, she told herself before heaving a massive sigh. She looked around the hotel room for some activity to fill the time until morning. She was sure she wouldn't be able to sleep a wink. She recognized the uncomfortable sensation of being on the verge of tears.

Just then the door was opening again and Joey was walking through it. "Yeah, I forgot to get myself a room earlier so –"

Without waiting for him to finish, she ran into his arms. He lifted her from the floor and spun her around in the air. Both of them were laughing like kids on the first day of summer break. This time, she kicked the door shut. 


	3. The Pact

****

Past & Present

Chapter 1: The Pact

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters. Hence, I am writing my own version of Season 10 before the lobster obsessed writers mess it up!

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here it is, chapter one! We are officially into AU Season 10! A few things I want to explain and a few questions to answer: While I will have scenes featuring the other characters, and events will unfold in their lives, they are still the back-drop to the Joey /Rachel story. However, it is sometimes helpful to work from other POV's in order to tell the story and set the scene. I don't write the other characters as well as J/R, but I'm trying** really** hard, so bear with me.

This chapter is rather long, but I had to set up a lot of things here. Also, for those who asked – there will be trouble ahead for the happy couple. Everything is about to change. So, please – read and review, let me know if you like it so far and I'll keep going with it! Thanks!

~*~*~*~*~*~

As morning brought more rain to Barbados, Monica and Chandler took their seats at a table in the Paradise Hotel restaurant. They were waiting for the gang to join them at the breakfast buffet before they all checked out and boarded a plane bound for New York.

"I can't believe it's our last morning here," Monica sighed. "It went by so fast." She thanked the waiter who placed a large pot of coffee on the table.

"We're going to have to get a weed eater for your hair when we get home," Chandler replied as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He looked up to see Phoebe and Mike approaching, hand in hand.

"Still sore from getting your ass kicked last night?" Mike smirked as he took his seat opposite Monica.

"Ha! I kicked _your_ ass!"

"Correction," Mike unfolded his napkin calmly. "I was kicking _your_ ass until Chandler had to take over for you." He looked at Chandler. "You, sir, did kick my ass. Somewhat." He paused. "But only because I was tired and let you win." He looked at Monica. "Just admit your defeat and get it over with, Bing."

"How about some mimosas to go with breakfast? Anyone?" Phoebe attempted to change the subject.

Monica responded as if she hadn't heard Phoebe. "You know, my hand is feeling much better. Up for a rematch, Mikey?" She shook her enormous mane of frizz at him. "You and me. One round. Winner take all."

Chandler shifted nervously in his chair. He knew the warning signs all too well. She was going to insist on continuing the competition. "Honey, there isn't time. Our plane leaves in two hours."

Monica looked sullen as her hopes for defeating Mike were crushed. Mike drummed his fingers on the table, apparently lost in thought. Chandler and Phoebe looked at each other uncomfortably.

"Hey, this is an all you can eat breakfast buffet!" Mike exclaimed suddenly.

"Yes, Mike, they're common fixtures in travel accommodations," Chandler replied. "Is this your first buffet? Because I'll be happy to show you the ropes." 

Mike interrupted. "All right, Monica. You want a rematch? You've got one. Pancake eating contest." He leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile.

"Oh, God, Mike – don't wake the beast!" Phoebe pleaded under her breath.

"No – I can do this!" Monica pointed at Mike. "You're on. Whoever gives up first loses."

"You mean, whoever _throws_ up first loses." Mike smiled fiendishly.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Chandler's voice was hushed. "You said you were feeling a little woozy this morning."

"I was just tired from playing last night. I can take him!"

"I don't doubt that – I saw the home movie of what happened that time you spent your birthday money at Dunkin' Donuts."

"If you can't take the heat, maybe you should get out of the kitchen – _Chef Bing"_, Mike sneered.

"That's Chef Geller to you!" Monica spat.

"Hey!" Chandler looked at Monica with a pained expression.

"It's my professional name!" Monica retorted. Grabbing her plate, she headed for the buffet. "You're going _down_, piano boy!" 

Mike snatched his plate from the table and followed Monica to the buffet. "Bring it on!" he called to her retreating back.

"Shall we join them?" Chandler smiled at Phoebe.

"Yeah. Like there's going to be any food left when they're done." Phoebe rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Hey, you guys," Ross said as he pulled out a chair for Charlie before sitting down beside her. Chandler and Phoebe greeted them warmly.

"Did you sleep well?" Chandler asked as he passed the coffee to Ross.

Ross and Charlie exchanged sheepish glances. "Yes. I - I feel like a new man this morning," Ross answered, carefully avoiding eye contact with Chandler.

"Where are Monica and Mike?" Charlie asked, holding her coffee cup for Ross to fill.

"They're going to have a pancake eating contest," Phoebe replied with a resigned expression.

"_What?_" Ross' face was incredulous. "He's challenging _Monica_? About _eating_? Have you called the paramedics?"

"Hey," Phoebe interrupted, looking at Charlie. "Where's Joey this morning?"

"I don't know," Charlie replied slowly, stirring sweetener into her coffee. "Actually, Joey and I broke up yesterday."

"Aw, what happened? Are you ok?" Phoebe's tone was concerned.

"We just don't have anything in common. He's a great guy, but I need to be with someone who shares more of my interests." She glanced briefly at Ross. He returned her glance with a shy smile. 

Chandler, catching and understanding this bit of interaction, shot Phoebe a questioning look. She shrugged her shoulders at him. Chandler turned his attention back to Charlie.

"Is Joey ok? Where is he?" Chandler asked.

"I don't really know. I haven't seen him since we had our talk last yesterday afternoon."

"You mean he didn't come back to the room to get his stuff last night?" Chandler raised his eyebrows.

"No, his things were still there when I got back this morning." Charlie answered.

Ross cleared his throat nervously.

"This _morning_?" It was Phoebe's turn to shoot a knowing look at Chandler.

"So, uh – where were you last night, that you didn't get back to your room until this morning?" Chandler leaned forward and fixed his gaze on Charlie and Ross, who were both busily adding cream to their coffee. 

"Let me get this straight," Phoebe's face revealed her disgust. Her instinct to protect Joey was overcoming politeness. "First you dumped Joey, then you spent last night in another room -" she looked witheringly at Ross –"and Joey's luggage is still right where he left it this morning. And no one has seen him since late yesterday afternoon?"

"Hey, wait a minute," Chandler's voice rose an octave as he suddenly connected the dots. "Where's Rachel?"

~*~*~

A "Do Not Disturb" sign was carefully placed on the door knob of room 1202. The door connecting it to the adjoining room was locked. The phone, long removed from its hook, had ceased to make an annoying sound of protest. The drapes were drawn shut, and the muted sound of a love song drifted from the standard - issue hotel clock radio.

Rachel was sprawled across the bed, her chin resting on her hands, surveying the damage. A slew of plates, bowls, and glasses from room service littered the floor like the aftermath of a disaster. 

She turned to look at Joey, who was lying on his back beside her. "I can't believe we did that."

"I can't believe you don't travel with Pepto-Bismol." He placed a hand on his stomach.

"It was all _so_ good, but – don't you think we should have stopped short of the desserts?"

"But the desserts were the best part!" He groaned as he rolled over on the bed.

"The filet mignon and lobster was a nice touch," she continued. "Just like our date." She felt a warm glow of happiness remembering that night when it had all begun to change for them.

"Our _first_ date," he amended.

"You mean our _only_ date?" she corrected.

"No. I mean our first. We are about to have _lots_ of dates. You will need to buy a new appointment book just to keep up with all the dates I'm taking you on." He looked at the dishes on the floor. "We better leave the maid a really good tip for cleaning this up."

"I suppose we had to find some outlet for our " she paused meaningfully "energy." Rachel pulled herself up to a sitting position, checking the clock with a frown. "We have to leave in two hours." She looked sadly into his eyes. "Back to the real world."

"Don't say it like that, like it's the end of everything," he protested, taking her hand in his. "It's just the beginning." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.

Rachel smiled before sighing. "You need to go back to Charlie's room and get your stuff, and I need to get dressed – that is, if any of my clothes still fit." She gestured to the remains of their all night feast on the floor. "Why don't you bring your bags back here and use my shower? You can get dressed in here." She leaned over and kissed him teasingly before lying down against him. "Unless you'd rather get _un_dressed in here." Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own as the wandered across his chest to his shoulders. 

__

How did I ever live without him, she mused to herself for the hundredth time since he'd come back to her room the night before.

"You already know what I'd rather do. And we already talked about that." He put an arm around her, pulling her closer. "You sure you're ok with this Ross and Charlie thing?" His voice revealed the apprehension he was feeling as he waited for her answer.

"Honestly, like I told you last night, I don't care that they were kissing in the lobby, and I don't care if they went back to Ross' room and slept together. It got you to come back to me, didn't it?" She absently played with a button on his shirt. "You and me are all that matters now. Ross is Emma's father, but he and I are completely over as a couple. I'm fine with him finding someone else." She tilted her face up to his for another kiss. "So stop worrying, ok? If they hadn't gotten together, you would have felt too guilty to be with me. It's all working out for the best."

His eyes searched hers. "You're sure about this? Even with all the history you guys have –"

"History is just history," she interrupted. "It's time to move on to the future – and my future is with you."

He kissed her, feeling satisfied with her answers. He released his last fleeting fear that Ross still held the key to her heart. 

"Aren't you going to get your bags?" She questioned when the kiss ended.

He held her tighter, inhaling the fragrance of her hair, reveling in the touch of her skin against his before he answered.

"In a minute. I'm not ready to let go of you yet."

"Then don't let go. Ever." She finished her sentence with another kiss that blotted out all thoughts of Charlie, Ross, luggage, and departure times. 

~*~*~*~

The hum of the shower and Joey's off-key rendition of "If Loving You Is Wrong, I Don't Want To Be Right" filled the air as Rachel put the finishing touches on her makeup. She studied her reflection in the portable makeup mirror, wondering why the powerful emotions coursing through her didn't show in her face. Other than the dark circles under her eyes – a result of staying up all night, eating and talking with Joey – she looked exactly the same as she had the day before. 

Her hands were trembling a little as she put her lipstick back into her makeup case. She couldn't shake her anxiety about everyone finding out. Her dread of their reactions threatened to outweigh her newfound happiness for the moment.

As she finished packing her cosmetics, her mind went over the agreement she and Joey had made somewhere during the long hours of the previous night. They'd spent hours sitting on the floor with a room service tray between them, working out a plan for the days to come.

"We won't make any big formal announcement about it," Joey had suggested.

"Right. No big formal announcements," she had agreed.

"We'll just let everyone notice gradually," he had said as he took his key lime pie from the room service tray. "Maybe they won't notice at all until after we're married." 

Rachel raised her eyebrows at the word "marriage". 

"Ok, Ok, moving a little fast there, Joe," he had muttered before taking a huge bite of pie. "You know, we _do_ live together. It's not like it's gonna be hard to keep this thing quiet." He chewed meditatively. "Damn, this is some good pie!"

"Oh, I think they'll notice all right," she had said as she helped herself to a bite of his pie. "But maybe Ross and Charlie will keep them distracted. For a little while, anyway." Her heart had overflowed with affection as she removed some whipped cream from the corner of his mouth with her napkin. 

Now, as she folded her mirror and put it into her open suitcase on the bed, she could only hope that Charlie would make Ross so happy that he wouldn't go into one of his fits of possessive jealousy. Funny, she thought. She'd hated Charlie so much in the beginning for monopolizing Joey's attention. Now Charlie seemed like a Godsend. 

She heard Joey shutting off the water in the bathroom.

"Are you decent?" he called through the door.

"Unfortunately," she answered wryly.

The bathroom door opened and Joey emerged from a cloud of steam, freshly showered and shaved, covered only by the crisp white hotel towel he was holding around his waist. 

"Can you get me something to wear from my bag?" A goofy smile crossed his face. "I uh, I gotta have one hand to hold up my towel."

Rachel rolled her eyes as she unzipped his bag, removing a black shirt and jeans from the surprisingly neat contents. She silently passed both items to him. He thanked her and backed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

She walked slowly over to the bathroom and leaned against the door. "This reminds me, we need to add one other thing to the pact."

"What's that?"

"No walking around the apartment half naked. Full clothing must be worn at all times during the first week."

"But what about Naked Thursdays?" 

"Joey! We never did Naked Thursdays!"

He opened the door, fully dressed this time. "Yeah. That's a shame." He smiled wistfully, as if remembering something that had never happened. 

"If all goes well next week, we can start having them soon." Rachel moved her body into his, wrapping her arms around his neck. He chuckled.

"Ok, no partial nudity." He returned her embrace. "Anything else?"

"No, I think that covers it. Should we go over the pact more time?" she asked him as he released her. He walked back into the bathroom to pack his shampoo, shaving items, and toothbrush.

"Rule 1, no big formal announcements," he replied.

"Right. Rule 2, no obvious PDA's."

"Rule 3." He stepped out of the bathroom and looked at her sternly. "No sex for the first week."

She sighed. "No sex until we've spent one week back in the real world and I am sure that this is what I really want and am prepared to deal with the consequences." She recited the words like a child in school repeating a lesson. "Happy now?" She swatted his rear end playfully.

"Which brings us to Rule 4 – no walking around half naked." He looked around the room reluctantly and sighed. "I guess we should call for a luggage cart." She nodded her response.

He made the call quickly, then turned to her. "Ready to face the world?"

"No." She was blinking back tears. "I wish we could stay here forever." 

Before he could answer, someone knocked on the door. Joey opened it and let the bellhop in. "That was fast," Joey gave the bellhop a smile he was far from feeling.

As Joey helped to load their bags onto the cart, Rachel quickly rummaged through the bedside table, taking out a matchbook bearing the Paradise Hotel logo and a room service receipt she'd saved from the previous night. _No way I'm leaving without a souvenir, _she told herself as she hastily stuck these treasures in her purse. She looked up to see Joey holding out his hand to her.

She took it and gave it a grateful squeeze. 

"I'll bring you back here someday. I promise." He opened the door. "Same room and everything. Just the two of us."

She nodded, too close to tears to risk speaking.

They crossed the threshold, stepping out into the hall together. A new day had arrived. 


	4. Everyone Finds Out Again

****

Past & Present

Chapter 1: Everyone Finds Out – Again.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters. However, Joey's rolled up towel is mine, mine, mine!

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: At last, here's Chapter 2! I had a minor accident and some family stuff, so it took longer than usual to update. I am **really** nervous about this chapter – I've been working on it for a week! So if you find something to like about it, please review and tell me!

Chapter three will be up within a few days at the latest, it's almost done now. It will begin to introduce the coming conflict.

A question for my readers – you can respond via review or email me. Do you want this story to go all out for romance? Like on a scale of 1-5, with 5 being ultra romantic, what would you prefer? Please let me know. I tend to go **very** romantic, and just want to know how my readers feel about that.

Thanks!

~*~*~*~*~*~

"I can't believe you didn't tell me Rachel likes Joey!" Chandler gestured frantically as he and Monica rushed back to their room after breakfast to get their bags before checking out.

"What was I supposed to do? Pass you a note in study hall? Besides, it was a secret. I didn't think she would _act_ on it." Monica's face was strained with discomfort. "Would you mind if I unbuttoned my pants?"

"Normally, I would be totally turned on by that," Chandler's tone took on a familiar note of sarcasm. "But since the reason behind is that you_ ate thirteen pancakes_, I'm going to have go with "no".

"It was fourteen. And Mike still won." Monica clenched her teeth. "Damn him!"

Their hotel room was in sight. "Are you going to talk to her?" Chandler asked hesitantly.

"I don't know. What if Joey is in there? What if they – you know –"

"Honey, we're talking about Joey here. When has he ever _not_ "you knowed"?

"Yeah, but I can't believe Rachel would. I mean, they've been friends for so long. She wouldn't mess that up - there's got to be another explanation for where he was last night." Monica was digging in her pants pocket. "I can't find my key!"

"That's because your pants are so tight you can't get your hand all the way in your pocket."

Monica pulled her card key out with a triumphant smile and unlocked the door. She and Chandler stepped into their room.

"Ok, you get the bags, I'm going to talk to Rachel." Monica grimaced and walked over to the door that joined the two rooms. Closing her eyes, she tried to prepare herself for whatever lay on the other side of the door as she tapped softly on it. 

"Rach? Can I come in?"

There was no answer. 

Chandler was hanging up the phone. "They're sending up a luggage cart. She's not answering you?"

Monica shook her head. "Should I go in?"

"Do we _really_ want to see this?"

"No, but I want to know exactly what happened before Ross finds out about any of this." Monica's concern for her brother was written across her face. 

"Ok. Go on in. You take Rachel, I'll take Joey."

"Deal." She answered with a nervous smile.

Monica took a deep breath and flung the door open. She and Chandler charged inside.

The room was empty except for dishes and trays on the floor. The bathroom door was open, revealing an unoccupied room. 

"_What_ is going on here?" Monica looked at Chandler in amazement.

"I'm not sure, but my guess is there was food involved." He gestured to the dishes on the floor like a game show host showing off a prize.

"Ugh, look at this mess. She must have gone on an eating binge or something." Sighing, Monica began putting the dishes back on the trays.

"You do realize there's paid staff to take care of that?"

"I know!" She paused, a wine glass in each hand. "Why would she have needed two glasses, unless –"

"Unless she wasn't alone last night," he interrupted.

"But how can we know for sure it was Joey? Maybe she hooked up with some other guy," Monica continued, collecting silverware from the floor. "There were two sets of dishes. Big deal. That doesn't tell us anything."

"No," Chandler said as he examined a slip of paper he'd found on the bedside table, "but the fact that he signed for the room service tells us a lot." He passed the receipt to Monica, who looked at it in astonishment.

"Oh my God!" she threw the receipt back at Chandler.

"I don't want it either!" He let it flutter down to the carpet.

"Ok. Ok – We've got to maintain! We've got to keep calm!" Monica was beginning to pace the floor. "So he was here. They probably just had dinner. He was upset about Charlie and needed to talk. Rachel would never take advantage of him at a time like this." She paused to glare at Chandler, her hands on her hips. "Can you say something?"

"The bed is made," Chandler observed. 

"This is Rachel and Joey," Monica answered. "I'm not sure either of them know how to make a bed."

"So that means –" 

"It hasn't been slept in." Monica finished his sentence. She examined the bed closer. "But look how rumpled it is. And the pillows are flat. Looks like it was slept _on."_

"Or _something_ was done on it," he mused.

The implications of his words hit both of them as they took a synchronized step away from the bed.

"Ew!" Monica shook her frizzy head in disgust. "Ew, ew, ew!"

A hand towel in the bathroom beside the sink caught Chandler's attention. Something about the way it was rolled up and placed behind the faucet just so – he had seen a towel rolled up just like that every morning during the years he lived with Joey.

"I don't guess Rachel has a habit of rolling up her hand towel and putting it behind the faucet?"

"What, after she slaps on some Old Spice?" Monica was scornful.

"Oh, God." Fear claimed Chandler's face and voice. "Oh, no –" He pointed at the bathroom sink, mouth open and eyes popping.

"What? What is it?" Monica's curiosity quickly reached a fever pitch. "Chandler!"

"That towel! The way it's just – sitting there, all rolled up –" he shuddered.

Monica saw the towel and gasped, clutching Chandler's arm in a claw-like grip. "That's the way Joey does towels! It drives me crazy!"

"Not the time for a lesson in towel etiquette, Mon!"

"What are we going to do?" she cried.

"One of us has to go in. One of us –" he swallowed hard – "has to smell the towel."

Monica let go of his arm and squared her shoulders. "All right." She tossed her head. "Mike may have beaten me at pancakes, but I can take the towel."

Chandler gave her a shove towards the bathroom. Monica walked haltingly until she was standing in front of the sink. She turned back to look at Chandler with her most pleading expression.

"Just do it! Smell the towel!"

She reached a hand out slowly, grasping the towel. Drawing a deep breath and closing her eyes, she raised the towel to her face and inhaled before dropped it as if it were on fire.

"Oh God! It's got Joey's after-shave on it!" She ran out of the bathroom. "He showered here! You know what this means?"

"It means he needed to get clean because he was very, very dirty!" 

Monica doubled over, clutching her stomach.

"Want to stick around and do some more investigation, Angela Lansbury? Or do you want to get the hell out of here?"

"Get me out of this – this _den of filth_!"

They barely avoided knocking each other down on the way back to their own room. "Forget the cart, just grab the bags and leave!" Monica screeched.

~*~*~

"Can you just check one more time?" Phoebe's voice was insistent.

"Ma'am, for the last time – there's no Joey Tribbiani listed as a guest. Your friend must have stayed somewhere else last night."

"Ok, well, then can you check for a Ken Adams?" 

The desk clerk rolled her eyes impatiently as her long nails tapped out Phoebe's request on the keyboard.

"I'm sorry ma'am. No "Ken Adams" either."

Phoebe frowned. "How about – Dr. Drake Ramoray?"

"Honey, I don't think he would register under his character's name." Mike thanked the clerk as she passed his credit card back to him.

"Huh, well, you don't know Joey." Phoebe turned away from the front desk impatiently. "Where _is_ he? I'm so worried about him!" 

Mike wrapped a comforting arm around her waist. "I'm sure he's ok." He shrugged. "Maybe he met a girl."

"That's what I'm worried about," Phoebe mumbled under her breath. Her psychic intuition was trying to tell her something, but she hadn't discerned the message clearly just yet.

"Look, there's Monica and Chandler," Mike pointed out. "Maybe they found him."

Phoebe rushed to meet her friends as they walked into the lobby. "Hey, you guys - Monica, did you find Joey?"

Monica and Chandler exchanged a pained glance. 

"I'm going to check out." Chandler hastily retreated, leaving Monica and Phoebe alone.

"Sweetie," Monica reached out and took Phoebe by the arm, leading her to a quiet corner of the lobby, "We think Joey slept with Rachel last night."

Phoebe gasped and backed away. "No!" Alarm colored her face. "How could they! Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure." Monica sighed. "You know she said she wanted to fool around with him. Maybe he wanted that too." She twirled a lock of her kinky hair nervously around her finger. "For all we know, he's still in love with her."

"Well, that explains why he didn't get his own room last night, " Phoebe concluded as she sat down on a nearby bench. "I just can't believe this – Joey and Rachel!"

"I know." Monica slumped down beside her. 

"Joey and Rachel – what?" a voice asked. 

They turned to see Ross standing behind them.

~*~*~

Rachel gave the rack of the postcard display one final spin, studying the selection of island scenes pictured on each one in larger than life color. She had four in her hand already, but she would rather stand there in the hotel gift shop and pick through postcards forever than face the questioning glances of her friends during the shuttle ride to the airport and the long flight home.

"We can't stay in here forever, you know."

Rachel looked up at Joey. "It was so nice of the shuttle driver to take our bags so that we could come in here and shop."

"Rach –" his voice trailed off.

"They're all going to freak out on us." She tossed the postcards down onto the base of the display rack. "We've broken the big law of friends hooking up with each other."

"Isn't that the same law that Chandler and Monica broke in London?"

"Yeah, but somehow that's different." She pushed her hair out of her face. "Are you sure you don't want to stay another night? We could order more key lime pie." She tried a smile and failed.

"We've got to face them sooner or later. The longer we wait, the more awkward it's going to get."

"I know, I know. You're right." She held out her hand to him. "We can face it together. We won't make a big deal out of this, and maybe they won't either."

He took her hand in his as they walked through the doors of the gift shop and into the short corridor that led to the lobby.

"Come on, I need to check out, and then we'll just get on the shuttle and act like nothing is different."

Joey stopped and turned to face her. "But _everything_ is different! I don't want to hide this – I don't want to pretend that I'm not happy with you – " he squeezed her hand for emphasis– "when you make me _so_, so happy."

"We're not hiding anything," She looked into his eyes and saw turmoil reflected back at her. "You're the one who said no big formal announcements, remember?"

"Just because I'm not sending out cards to announce this doesn't mean I want to hide it. I don't like secrets and lies. You should know that by now."

"I know – it's just – this is big, ok? This is going to change everything, for all six of us, for Emma – nothing is going to be the same from the minute the two of us walk into that lobby together." She glanced at the door leading to the lobby apprehensively. "I just need time to decide how much to say and when to say it. I'm not going to lie about us or keep this a secret."

He touched her face gently. "All right – however you want to do this, that's how we'll do it. You tell them as much as you want, and I'll go along with whatever you say. Ok?" He seemed resigned to the idea.

She sighed with relief. "Thank you." A flirtatious smile replaced the frown on her face. "If you want one more kiss before we get on the shuttle, you better get it now. This is your last chance."

Without hesitation he put his arms around her. His lips met hers, softly at first, then with increasing urgency. She returned his kiss with fevered longing, shivering with pleasure as his hand slipped under the back of her shirt. She pressed her body closer to his, every inch of her aching for closer contact. 

With a tortured moan, she pulled herself away from him. He leaned against the wall, his head back and his eyes closed as they both tried to calm their breathing.

"You're good to go?" She fanned herself with her hand.

"Yeah, I'm good," he cleared his throat. "You wanna go back to the room for a few minutes?"

"Joey!" She poked his ribs. "You're the one who said we had to face everyone!"

"Yeah, but that was before you did _whatever_ it was that you just did to me." He shifted from one foot to the other. "I kinda want to do some more of that."

"You were right the first time. We have to go face everyone." She took his hand again. "We'll do some more of _that_ when we get home." 

"Keep it up, and you'll convince me to break rule three." 

"That's the plan," she answered as they entered the lobby.

"There they are!" Monica's voice was coming from somewhere. Quickly, Rachel slipped her hand out of Joey's. He moved his hand behind his back reflexively. She glanced at him, seeing the pain of rejection in his eyes that his acting skills couldn't hide.

__

Five seconds into the public phase of our relationship and I've already hurt him. The thought was not a pleasant one. She braced herself. Monica and Phoebe were quickly approaching from one side as Chandler approached from the other. From across the room, Ross' eyes met hers, blazing with the same cold anger she'd seen so many times before. It was obvious that he already knew, but how?

As Rachel forced a smile onto her face, she was feeling anything but brave. She and Joey were about to change nine years of history and six lives in a single instant.

A/N: Coming soon, Chapter 3: Secrets. Please review, and answer my question above. Thanks!


	5. Secrets

****

Past & Present

Chapter 3: Secrets

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters. If I did, there would be no Season 10 R/R reunion.

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: First, thanks to all of you who responded to my question and who left positive reviews. For those who were less than positive – if you're a R/R fan, you were warned that you wouldn't enjoy this story, so why read it? I don't read stuff that's going to upset me.

Now that the cat is out of the bag about the S10 R/R reunion cranking up as early as the third new episode, I almost decided to give up on this story. But I decided that since fanfics are the only place we J/R fans can get our happy ending, I should continue.

Please leave me some good reviews and encourage me to keep going – I could really use it. Thanks!

~*~*~*~

Rachel and Joey returned to their apartment just as the sun was beginning to set behind the New York skyline, casting a pink light everywhere. They hadn't had a moment alone since walking into the lobby that morning and being accosted by their friends and separated for questioning. 

__

They had everything but a giant spotlight, Rachel thought, frowningas she remembered Monica's accusations, Phoebe's betrayed face, but most of all, Ross. Ross looking as if he despised the very sight of her, refusing to speak except to curtly say that he would go get Emma from his parent's house and keep her overnight. 

She suppressed a twinge of shame as she recalled her flimsy cover story: Joey had come to her room, depressed about his breakup. They'd kissed, she told Monica and Phoebe, but nothing else, deciding to remain friends for the time being. She'd left out the fact that "the time being" was one week and that it had gone further than mere kissing. 

She knew that her story was somewhat true, at least on the surface. But she'd denied the essence of what had happened between them, a turning point in their relationship that transcended the one-night stand everyone assumed they'd had. They were on the verge of becoming a couple, and she'd given her two best friends no clue about this development.

As these things drifted through her mind, Joey carried her bags to her room. She stood behind the bar, nervously sorting through their mail. He emerged from her room and gave her a tight-lipped smile as he got his own bag. He wheeled it into his room in silence and closed his door. 

Fear stabbed her heart as she considered the possibility that he might not come back out. It felt so awkward to be back in these familiar surroundings now that so much had happened in Barbados. They had almost slept together – only his reluctance had stopped them. In her heart of hearts, she knew they could never be "just roommates" again. But could they face what lay ahead of them without crashing into a wall of obstacles?

__

He was right, she admitted to herself. _In the real world, this is so complicated. Maybe too complicated for him. _

The sound of his door opening startled her. His face was impassive as he glanced her way, then looked at the floor as took a seat in the Barcalounger.

__

One of us has to say something, she thought as she racked her brain for some sort of ice-breaker. _What do you say to your roommate after you've become his girlfriend during a weekend getaway?_

He broke the silence. "So are we – over?" His tone was restrained but she saw how his hands gripped the arms of the chair. His face, still expressionless, told her nothing. 

"Do you _want_ us to be over?" She held her breath as she waited for his answer.

"I want whatever you want." He looked at the floor again.

She walked slowly to a barstool and sat down. "This is too complicated for you, isn't it?" A numbing sense of loss filled her as she tried to anticipate his next words.

He shrugged. "I can handle the complications. But you - you just looked so unhappy all the way home. I thought Monica and Pheebs probably talked you out of this." His eyes burned into hers. "If you want to stop and act like this never happened, I can try to do that." 

"Is that what you really want?"

"No." He struggled with the intensity of his feelings. "The only thing I've wanted – since that night when we went out for the first time – is _you_."

"Oh, sweetie," she sighed with relief as she climbed down from the barstool to sit with him. "Can I?" 

"Sure." He drew her on to his lap.

"We knew this was going to be complicated. But it's worth it, isn't it?" She rested her head on his shoulder.

"What did Monica say to you?" he asked.

She cringed internally at the memory. "They kinda thought we slept together."

His eyebrows shot up. "Did they get that idea from you?"

She avoided his eyes. "No, but I didn't exactly set them straight - " Her voice trailed off.

"More secrets, more lies." He exhaled with exasperation.

"I didn't _lie_ about anything, I just – " she paused as she tried to think of a favorable way to describe her actions – "didn't give them all the facts." She counted to ten, waiting for him to speak. When he didn't, she continued. "I sort of told them that we kissed, but nothing else really happened and we're still just roommates - " He opened his mouth to protest. "For _now_," she stressed.

"And how is that _not_ lying?"

"Well, we didn't sleep together!" Her voice took on a defensive note.

"Almost!" 

"Almost doesn't count. Trust me, I learned all about that in high school." 

"But _something_ happened. It clearly wasn't _nothing_." The corner of his mouth turned down in agitation.

She sat up sharply, deciding to turn the tables. "What exactly did you say to Chandler?"

"I told him to ask Monica, that whatever you told her was the real story."

"Why did you do a thing like that?" 

"We're guys! We don't talk about that stuff!" 

Her face was incredulous. 

"Ok, so Chandler talks about that kind of stuff, but I don't!" 

She giggled. "You mean you and Chandler don't like to get together and, you know, paint each other's toenails while you talk about your feelings?"

"No. Ross is the one who likes his toenails painted". He was quiet for a few seconds. "Does he know?"

"I think so. Monica said he overheard her and Phoebe talking about it and she had to tell him. But I told her that we didn't do anything and I think she filled him in."

"He's going to hate us both now." He sighed painfully.

"What if he does? We didn't do anything wrong. And I know for a fact he slept with Charlie last night." She changed her tone, trying to get Joey to smile. "Do you know if Charlie owns a wedding dress?"

She was rewarded with a chuckle before his agitation returned. "She sure didn't sleep in her bed last night. I saw that when I went back to the room to get my stuff." His eyebrows formed a straight line as he scowled. "Anyway, it's none of their business if we're sleeping together or not," he blurted out tersely.

"So you admit that it's ok to keep it to ourselves for now?"

He squirmed uncomfortably and looked away from her.

"Admit it!" 

"Ok! I admit it!" He pulled the lever of the chair, moving them to a reclining position. "And we're not over?" 

"I don't want us to be over. If you can handle this, I can. I want to try, at least." She cuddled closer to him. "One week back in the real world, like you said. It won't seem weird after a week or so." _And maybe by then, I won't be so scared for everyone to know truth and will have thought of a way to tell them,_ she added to herself.

He flashed a crooked smile at her. "Do you want to do some – stuff?"

"Depends on what you have in mind." She brushed her fingers through his dark hair, admiring how incredible he looked, even after going without sleep for 24 hours. "This chair is too small for doing much stuff."

"We can do some more of that hallway stuff," he looked at her suggestively.

"But what about rule three?" She breathed the words as she left a trail of kisses on the side of his neck.

"There are some loopholes in rule three. We don't have to break it to do certain - stuff."

She pulled back in mock surprise. "I thought rule three was iron clad with no loopholes!"

"I made the damn rule, and I'm making a loophole!" He quickly pulled her on top of him.

"Did you lock the door when we came in?" She forced the words out between kisses.

"Yes!" He said impatiently.

Within minutes, she knew they were headed to the point of no return. Despite his resolve to wait, the attraction between them was too strong. It would not be denied. She felt herself responding to him in a way that she'd never responded to another man, not even Ross. It was surprising in a wonderful way - an unexpected gift when you thought life had already given you your share.

She wondered briefly if it was because he'd seen her at her best and her worst. There was no fantasy to live up to, no image to uphold. She could simply be herself with him, relishing in the feeling of being completely safe in his arms.

__

So this is love, she mused. _I almost forgot how it feels._

"We should stop," he said without taking his lips from hers.

"We should finish." She punctuated her words by deepening the kiss insistently.

"You sure?" He wasn't putting up much of a fight. She could sense his resistance crumbling.

"Um-hmm," she murmured affirmatively. A wave of pleasure flowed through her, making further speech impossible. 

"Let's go to my room," he whispered.

She pulled herself slowly away, breathless with anticipation and dizzy from the euphoria she was experiencing. 

__

No regrets, she told herself. _He's the only one I really want to be with. This was meant to happen_. 

She smiled radiantly as this certainty filled her to the core like a warm fire burning within. The glowing smile was not lost on Joey, who watched her expression change with captivated wonder.

"My God – you are so beautiful," he whispered in amazement.

She answered him without thinking, realizing the truth as she heard her own words saying it. "You make me feel beautiful." _It's as simple as that_, she realized.

"Let's go." She stood up by the chair as he pulled the lever to bring it back its normal position.

The sound of someone turning the locked doorknob from outside shattered the stillness.

They looked at each other then at the door.

A hesitant knocking echoed through the room. "Rachel? It's me and Emma."

"Ross!" Joey hissed, panicking.

Rachel hastily rearranged her clothing, thinking fast. "I'll go out and talk to him in the hall." 

"What if they come in? I can't stand up now!" 

"Rachel? Are you there?" Ross called through the door. She could hear Emma's voice jabbering baby talk to Ross in the hall.

"Throw me a magazine!" Joey pointed at the bar.

Rachel tossed the latest issue of "Vogue" to him. He opened it to the middle and put it over his lap as she stepped out into the hall. 

Ross was holding Emma, who held out her tiny arms to her mother and let out a happy squeal when Rachel embraced her.

"Is this a bad time?" Ross' voice was flat, his face betraying nothing other than his disappointment in her. 

"No," she answered, ignoring the way Joey's kisses still burned on her lips, the way she could still feel the warmth of his body against hers. "I was just unpacking. What's up? I thought she was staying at your place tonight."

"She was, but they did pest control on my floor of the building this morning, and –"

"And you're allergic to bug spray," she finished.

"I'm a little worried about exposing her to it." He reached across Rachel's arm to stroke his daughter's soft downy hair. "If I'm allergic to it, there's a good chance she is, too. She's safer here with you, at least for tonight."

"Where are you going to stay?"

He looked away from her, adjusting one of Emma's shoes. "Um, Charlie has this paper she wants me to look at – I'm going over to her place to read it then I'll just crash on her couch or something."

__

So that's the way we're going to play it, she thought in annoyance. _This isn't going to work. He has to know that I'm ok with the whole Charlie thing._

She shifted Emma to her other arm, steadying herself for what she was about to say. "Ross – we need to talk."

He put up a hand, gesturing for her to stop. "I already know about you and Joey. Monica told me. She and Chandler saw some stuff in your room and overreacted. It's no big thing, ok?" 

"That's not –" she began. He interrupted.

"I know you guys kissed. I can understand that. We were on vacation, everyone was drinking and maybe we all got a little too relaxed." He was beginning to talk faster, to over-enunciate, the way he always did when he wasn't being entirely truthful. "A kiss isn't a big deal. It's not like – " he paused, searching for an outrageous comparison "- it's not like you're shacking up with him in front of my daughter!" He laughed at the absurdity of the idea. She forced a laugh as her stomach dropped down to the ground floor, realizing the mess she'd gotten herself into by not being honest with everyone about what had really happened. 

__

Joey is always true to his feelings, she realized. _He would have told the truth and dealt with the consequences._

"I'm gonna take off." Ross leaned over and kissed Emma's cheek. "Bye sweetie – Daddy loves you." Emma cooed her response.

"If she needs anything, call me." He turned to the stairs, looking back at Rachel over his shoulder. "Joey has the number."

She nodded, listening to his footsteps disappear before she took Emma back into the apartment.

Joey had taken a pint of mint chocolate-chip ice cream from the freezer and was getting two spoons from the drawer. He looked at Rachel and Emma, and without a word, took Emma's baby spoon from the drawer as well.

"How did that go?" he asked as he passed Rachel the ice cream.

"His apartment was sprayed for pest control today, so he's going to Charlie's to 'work on a paper' and 'crash on her couch' to avoid an allergy attack." Rachel dug out a tiny spoonful of ice cream and fed it to Emma, who smacked appreciatively.

"And we have an overnight guest?" he asked as he took a bite of ice cream.

"Ross gets her tomorrow night." She studied him carefully, sensing that he was unhappy about something. "You don't mind, do you? She goes to bed early, we can still –"

"Woah, woah, woah!" He tossed his spoon down on to the counter. "Not with the baby here. No way."

"You're severely limiting our future sex life with that idea," she said ruefully to him as he walked away from her.

"You don't have s-e-x with the baby in the next room!" He threw himself back into the Barcalounger defiantly.

"Joey, honey, don't you think _your_ parents had sex while you kids were in the house?"

"Aw, why did you have to put that image in my head?" He groaned and buried his face in his hands. Rachel laughed and gave Emma another bite of ice cream.

"It's not funny," he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "We can't let this happen again. I think we need to add a new rule to the pact."

"Come finish your ice cream, and we'll talk about it." She carried Emma over to her playpen and placed her carefully inside before sitting back down at the bar.

"Rule 5 – you're a mom, and that comes first." He looked into her eyes intensely. "I don't want to be the guy who messes up Emma's family."

"You're not messing with anything. Emma's not going to get hurt just because her mom and her Uncle Joey got together. It's better, for her sake, for you to be with me than some random stranger."

He put his spoon down again. "It would be better for her sake for you to be with Ross." 

Rachel sighed in frustration.

"If I'm keeping you guys from being a family, I need to pack up and move to Vermont. I never want to be the cause of that."

"You are _not_ keeping Ross and me apart! He and I just don't work together anymore, and I don't think we'd be doing Emma any good to stay together when all we do is fight." She reached across the bar and took his hand as she continued. "I want to be with _you_, not Ross_._ _You_ make me happy, not Ross. Just accept that. You're not getting rid of me." She smiled and let go of his hand to stick a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.

"We still need to have this new rule," he said, swallowing the ice cream. "And rule three stands. We're not having another close call like tonight." He pulled his most stern "Dr. Drake" face. "One week, and that's final. If you still want to be together then, we will."

"Shake on it?" She extended her hand.

"Deal." He took her hand in his, shaking it vigorously. She pulled him across the bar and kissed him quickly then pulled back. He pulled her across and kissed her before pulling back again. They both burst out laughing, refusing to stop the across-the-bar tug of war.

~*~*~

Rachel was happy when she walked through her door late the next afternoon. Her first day back at work since Barbados was a good one, made even better by the huge bouquet of lilies that arrived right before lunch. The card read:

__

Don't worry about dinner tonight, I'll bring home Chinese takeout.

I miss you already.

Love,

J

She had smiled and carefully placed the card in her purse for safekeeping. The lilies had brightened up her desk and reminded her of wonderful things to come all day long.

"How was she today?" she asked Emma's nanny, taking her daughter from Molly for a huge hug and kiss.

"A little angel, just like always. She really loves that swing Joey got for her." Molly got her purse and headed for the door. "Oh, by the way – Ross called and said he may run late, but that he'll definitely be here after dinner to pick her up."

"Thanks Molly," Rachel bounced Emma up and down. "Can you say bye-bye to Molly?"

Emma waved, and Molly waved back before leaving.

Rachel quickly got Emma's dinner ready and attempted to feed her. Throwing food was Emma's latest form of amusement, and Rachel ended up wearing more strained peas than her daughter ate.

"Ok, Miss Geller-Green. Your mom looks like a table cloth, so I'm going to put you in your swing." She put Emma's legs carefully through the holes in the seat and cranked up the swing. "And I'm going to go change before Uncle Joey gets home." Emma was already laughing as the swing went back and forth.

Rachel went into her room and quickly changed into her pajamas. _I'm in for the night, why not? _She concluded to herself with a smile. _They might as well be semi-sexy pajamas._

She was checking her reflection in the mirror when she heard Joey coming in the door and greeting Emma.

She went into the living room as he was removing several cartons of Chinese takeout from their bags and putting them on the bar. 

"Hey, you" she said as she rushed into his arms for a kiss. 

"I missed you today." He brushed her hair out of her face in a gesture that never failed to make her melt.

"Thank you for the lilies. I'm impressed, you remembered my favorite flower."

"Hey!" His eyebrows shot up. "I brought you lilies on our first date!"

"I know, but a lot of guys don't remember little details like that." She dug into a carton of kung-pow chicken. "You're different, in a very, very good way."

"Hold on a minute, I have something else." He took a small package out of one of the bags and handed it to her. It was beautifully wrapped in paper printed with lilies. "I hope you don't exchange this tomorrow," he said, only half-joking.

Rachel squealed excitedly as she tore off the wrapping. It was a "My Little Pony" doll, in a beautiful shade of bubble gum pink.

"Oh my God, Joey – this is just like –" 

"Cotton?" he interjected.

"Yes! My pink pony named Cotton, who had the beautiful mane and tail that I used to comb and braid." Her eyes filled with tears. "I can't believe you remembered. I loved Cotton so much, and Jill gave her to LaPooh to use as a chew toy."

He looked at her sheepishly. "Well, you know, I have original Hugsy to sleep with, and Emma has crappy Hugsy – I just thought you should have someone to sleep with too." He gave her a naughty smile. "Until next week, anyway."

"I love it so much!" She put the pony on the floor and threw her arms around him, squeezing him tight. "Thank you," she whispered.

Joey caught the pony up quickly, standing up and raising it over his head. "You promise not to take her back to the store tomorrow?"

"Yes, I promise!" She stood on her tiptoes, reaching for Cotton. "Now gimme it!"

"No, you gotta do better than that." He moved a few steps backwards. "Swear."

"I swear. Give it to me."

"You're gonna have to catch me first." He ran to his room with Rachel in hot pursuit. Emma laughed and clapped her hands, enjoying every minute of the spectacle from her seat in the swing.

Rachel assaulted him with a tickle attack on his ribs, knowing that would bring him to his knees. He dropped Cotton, and she picked it up and ran back into the living room.

"Mommie won!" she declared to Emma.

Joey followed, grabbing her around the waist from behind and lifting her into the air. "Give me the pony!"

Rachel was laughing so hard that it was difficult to breathe, much less speak. "Never!"

He knelt to the floor, laying her on the rug and tickling her. She rolled over and tried to crawl away, but he caught her ankle and succeeded in pulling her sock off.

She was laughing too hard to fight back. "I give in!" She rolled over on her back, panting. 

He leaned over, pinning her wrists to the floor. "Swear you won't take it back to the store?" He barely got the words out through his laughter.

"I swear!" He was above her and she found herself staring into his dark eyes. They were both sweaty and messy from romping, but he'd never looked better to her, and she could see that he felt the same way. Still pinning her wrists behind her head, he held himself up on his elbows as he bent down to kiss her, a kiss so passionate that neither of them heard the front door opening and someone coming in.

"Hey Emma! Where's your –" He stopped, seeing Rachel and Joey hastily scrambling off the rug to stand up.

"- mom?" he finished.

It was Ross.

__ __


	6. New Life

****

Past & Present

Chapter 4: New Life

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters. But little R.J. is mine – sort of.

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Finally, Chapter 4. The much-awaited conflict begins in this chapter. This one is longer than any of the others have been. I hope you guys won't mind too much – I had a LOT to set up with this chapter!

Once again, thank you all SO much for the reviews. It keeps me going! The next chapter should be up sometime this week, so please keep reading and reviewing. One more thing I want to make clear: I am **not** going to make Ross the villain here. His reasons will eventually emerge and I do have a wonderful twist ahead for him. I like Ross and have no desire to bash him. So please bear with me on that point.

Keep reading, keep reviewing, and stay tuned for Chapter 5!

~*~*~*~*~

Ross insisted on dragging Rachel across the hall to hash it out. The minute Monica saw her brother's face with Rachel in tow, clad only in her pajamas and one sock, she decided that a cup of coffee at Central Perk was a great idea and left the two of them alone.

Rachel knew it was going to be unpleasant, but nothing could have prepared her for what happened. It was the worst fight they'd ever had.

"Care to explain_ that_?" Ross asked as Monica shut the door behind her.

Rachel steeled herself against the coming attack.

"Ok. Joey and I were having a little fun. It was perfectly innocent. _Please_ don't make a big deal out this."

"_Make_ a big deal out of it? Because it's _so_ not a "big deal" that my daughter was watching you make out with your boyfriend on the floor. Yeah, you're right Rachel. This is a small deal. A tiny deal." He waved his arms angrily. "It's so tiny, you know, I think I might need a microscope to see it!"

Rachel sighed. "He's not my boyfriend." A pang stabbed through her heart when she heard herself speaking the words of betrayal.

"So? What, then? He's just the guy you're sleeping with?" He folded his arms across his chest and glared at her.

"I don't know what he and I are. We haven't made that decision yet. And it's none of your business whether or not I'm sleeping with him. You lost your right to that information a _long_ time ago."

"What you do in front of my daughter is my business."

"Ross – I'm not doing anything! She's still a baby for, God's sake. We were just playing around and – and things got a little out of hand. We didn't do anything wrong." Her voice dropped. "And if you hadn't been playing tonsil hockey with Charlie in the hotel lobby, none of this would have happened in the first place."

He was taken aback by this revelation. "How do you know about that?"

"Joey saw you." She groaned inwardly, knowing that this line of conversation wasn't going to a good place, but seeing no way to extricate herself without raising the issue of his relationship with Charlie.

"Wait, wait – Joey _saw_ us in the lobby and told you about it?

"Yes he did. Why shouldn't he have told me?"

"Oh, he should have told you. I see it perfectly, from his point of view." He laughed bitterly, looking right through her. "He saw me making out with his ex-girlfriend, so he decided to make out with mine."

"That's not how it happened." Every muscle in her body ached with tension. "You don't understand what happened at all."

"I understand spite better than you think."

"It was _not_ spite." She knew her temper was about to get the better of her, but she no longer cared. "You want the truth, Ross?"

"If you even know what the truth _is_ anymore," he spat.

"All right, well, here's your truth. You know who initiated things between me and Joey? I did. Yeah, that's right. _I_ am the one who told him that I wanted to start things up between us. And you know what he said, Ross? He said he couldn't do it because of _you_."

Ross sighed and looked out the window, a trace of remorse fighting with anger in his face. 

"I tried to talk him into it, and he turned me down. You know what else? He never stopped loving me. But he still put you first, above his own happiness."

He continued to stare out the window in stony silence. 

"Then he saw you in the lobby, so happy with Charlie – and he thought since you had found someone, maybe it was _finally_ acceptable for him to be with me. He still worries about you, and Emma, and how everyone else is going to handle it if he and I end up together."

She saw him shove his fists into his pockets, refusing to acknowledge anything she'd said.

"If that's your definition of spite, maybe you need to go back to school, Dr. Geller."

Silence stretched between them like a canyon. His mental wheels were obviously turning at a high speed. She relaxed slightly, hoping his pensive expression meant that she had reached him somehow. Then he turned his eyes to her, contempt blazing from them like an inferno.

"None of this excuses the fact that I walked in on you, sprawled across the rug in your, your – " he gestured to her pajamas, sputtering. "In your skimpy little pajamas, with the guy who I _thought_ was my best friend laying on top of you, shoving his tongue down your throat, while my daughter is right there, watching everything."

"Your jealousy taints everything, doesn't it? You take everything and make it dirty and devious."

He looked at her appraisingly. "If you're already carrying on like this in front of her, what's next? Maybe you'll be teaching her to call him Daddy because that's what you really want." He paused, his face darkening. "To take her away from me and raise her with him."

"My God, listen to yourself! Are you crazy? I would never take her away from you. She loves you, she needs you, she -"

He interrupted her. "But _you_ don't need me." His tone was cold. "And Rachel's needs always come first."

Rachel felt as if she'd been slapped. Tears filled her eyes. "I always knew you could be heartless. But this is low, Ross, even for you." She sat down on the couch and buried her face in her hands.

He laughed bitterly. "This is great. Are you getting Emma involved with Joey to score points with him? Because you know, Rach, he doesn't care." He paused to let his words make their full impact. "When he's tired of sleeping with you, he's going to move on. He won't care if Emma calls him daddy, or if you've messed up your life for him, or anything else. He'll be on to another woman and another bed. He doesn't know how to do anything else."

Rachel was overcome by a seething rage, like a mother tiger out to defend her young. 

"You know _nothing_ about Joey and me. Let me remind you - _you_ were the one who went on to another woman's bed after me. _You_didn't care that you'd messed up my life. _You _were the one who didn't take responsibility for _any_ of it. So, please, spare me the public service announcement about bad boyfriend behavior."

"_That_ again. We always end up there, don't we?"

"Oh, come on, Ross." She punched a throw pillow with frustration.

"No, no, this needs to be said. No matter how bad you screw up, it doesn't count because, hey, I had a one-night stand nearly a decade ago." 

"A one night stand that you _still_ don't understand was wrong!"

He went on as if he hadn't heard her. "That one night excuses everything you've ever done, doesn't it?" His face was turning red. She'd never seen him so furious.

"In fact, you think it excuses everything you ever _will_ do. Including selling out you own child so you can finally get your hands on Joey."

Rachel stood up.

"Get out." She pointed to the door.

"Fine by me," he snarled, slamming the door behind him.

Rachel listened carefully for his footsteps going down the stairs. When she was sure it was safe, she went across the hall to Joey's apartment. He was sitting in the Barcalounger, eating out of one of the takeout cartons. Emma was asleep in her swing, thankfully oblivious to the strife between her parents. In his anger, Ross had stormed off without taking his daughter with him.

"I heard," Joey said flatly.

"How much?" she asked wearily.

"Enough to know he hates me and is never going to be my friend again." He put the carton of food on the floor and rocked the chair slowly.

"You must be really upset to stop eating. It's kinda scaring me." She tried to smile.

He shrugged. "I don't want to mess up your life. It's already complicated enough without adding me into the mix."

She walked over to him and sat down on his lap, resting her head against him. He intertwined his fingers with hers. They were quiet for a moment as she absorbed the peace he always gave her.

"He's wrong, you know." Joey said suddenly.

"About which part?"

"The whole 'sleep with you and leave you when I'm tired of it' part. I mean, yeah, I did stuff like that in the past, but –" he squeezed her hand. "This is different. _We're_ different. I've never had anything like this before. I'm not going anywhere." 

She looked up at him, their eyes meeting. "I never had any doubts."

"Good. Don't start having them just because he said a bunch of stupid junk. He's angry and hurting, that's all. He didn't mean it."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Trust me. I'm a guy, I know these things. Me, he hates. But with you, he's going though a hard time, seeing us together and everything. The Emma thing set him off. He'll get over it. So stop worrying, ok? It's going to be alright." He put a finger under her chin, tilting her face up to his. "Ok?"

She kissed him. "Ok." As she wrapped her arms around him she closed her eyes. He felt like security and safety. For the moment, she was calm again.

~*~*~

Rachel woke to the sound of Emma talking to herself in her crib nearby. She felt sore, as if she were black and blue. Then she remembered her fight with Ross. _No wonder I feel bruised, after that verbal beating._

She was tempted to feed Emma and go back to bed for the day. 

Emma, sensing her mother stirring, tuned up insistently. Rachel dragged herself out of bed and threw on her robe before picking her daughter up and covering her soft baby face with kisses.

"You want some breakfast?" she asked Emma. "Let's go steal some of Uncle Joey's cereal." 

She found Joey already awake, seated at the bar eating Frosted Flakes. He looked unusually sober.

"Morning, sweetie." She kissed his cheek as she passed by him to get Emma's bowl and spoon.

"Did you get any sleep?" 

"Not enough," she replied, pouring milk on Emma's cereal. "I plan to avoid him today. Molly is going to have to be our go-between until he calms down."

A quick tap on the door was followed by Monica's face appearing in the opening above the chain. "Can I come in for a sec?"

"Sure," Joey said, reaching across to unfasten the chain on the door.

Monica wasted no time with tact. "Ross told me what happened last night."

"I can't say I'm surprised. Works fast, doesn't he?" Rachel handed Emma over to Joey. "I guess you're here to finish the lecture for him?" She couldn't stop a note of defiance from creeping into her voice.

"Look, he's my brother and I love him. But he totally overreacted to what he saw, or what he thinks he saw." Monica shrugged. "If you guys have feelings for each other and want to see where this - this _thing_ between you is going, none of us should stop you." She glanced from Rachel to Joey and back again. "No matter how weird it is for us."

"Thank you so much," Rachel embraced her friend warmly. "We feel like no one is supporting us with this."

Monica patted Rachel's back. "I'm going to be honest with you. I don't _understand _it, but I want you both to be happy. If being together is what it takes, then Ross will have to be an adult about it. I only wish you had felt that you could tell me the truth from the beginning." She released Rachel, turning to face both of them. "On that note – Chandler and I want you guys to come over for dinner tonight. Just the four of us."

Joey looked doubtful. "I don't know, Mon. Not sure that we're ready for that."

"But Joey," Rachel intervened, "You said we needed to do 'real world' stuff together and see how it goes before we make any decisions. This is real world stuff. Couples stuff."

"And I'm making my famous chicken parm," Monica added with a smile.

"I'm there." Joey said quickly.

~*~*~

Dinner at Monica's was a success. If Monica and Chandler were uncomfortable with the way Joey and Rachel arrived, hand in hand, they didn't show it. The Bings didn't notice – or pretended not to notice – that their friends sat closer to each other than usual. If they gazed into each other's eyes when passing the breadbasket, or occasionally shared a look that said more than words could convey, Monica and Chandler appeared to be none the wiser. 

If Monica was the only one who didn't take a glass of Chianti with dinner, or if she looked pale and more than a little tired, her friends failed to take note of it. Perhaps Monica, carefully guarding the secret growing inside her, was too anxious, too fearful of the outcome of the next day's appointment with her fertility specialist to pay attention to any changes occurring outside of her own body. Maybe Chandler, fearful that this was a false alarm that would bring his wife more heartbreak, was too absorbed in her to see that his best friend was madly in love for the first time.

Pronouncing their first outing as a couple successful, the inhabitants of Joey's apartment went to a movie the next night with Mike and Phoebe. Fortunately, the other couple was too wrapped up in each other to care about the unusual specter of Rachel and Joey holding hands as the lights went down.

"I think we've got this couple thing nailed," Rachel said as she and Joey walked home alone after the movie. She was feeling more positive than she had felt since leaving Barbados. Her two best friends were tolerating her relationship. If they were unable to openly accept it, she was prepared to give them time to get used to the idea. Maybe Ross had inadvertently done them a favor. He'd told everyone that she and Joey were more involved than she'd led them to believe, and spared her the difficulty of telling them herself. It would all blow over soon enough, even with Ross. What more could she ask for? She had a wonderful daughter and Joey's arm was around her as they walked back to their apartment on a beautiful autumn night. Everything seemed right in her world. 

"What are you thinking about?" His soft-spoken words interrupted her thoughts.

She looked up at him with a rapt smile. "How happy I am right now."

*~*~*~*

The next night, as Emma played with psuedo-Hugsy on a blanket spread across the living room floor, Rachel set three places on the bar. She was nervously excited about the night to come. Joey's younger sister Dina was coming over for pizza, bring her son Robert Joseph with her. Robert Joseph, or R.J., as he was called, was only a couple of months younger than Emma was. Dina and Rachel had bonded during their pregnancies, and Rachel was looking forward to seeing her again. She felt a twinge of butterflies, wondering how Dina would react to the news about her and Joey. Rachel knew the Tribbiani sisters were as protective of their brother as he was of them. Dina's approval could be an important key to his family accepting her as more than his roommate.

Joey stepped out of his room where he'd been changing clothes. "Pizza here?"

"Not yet, " she answered, watching him. He sat down on the blanket with Emma, absently stacking her alphabet blocks into a tower.

"We need to buy Monica something really nice for helping us out with Ross," he said, sadness edging his words. "If she hadn't volunteered to go pick up Emma at his place, you would have had another thing with him tonight."

Before she could answer, the pizza delivery guy knocked on the door and shouted "pizza" to announce his arrival.

Rachel opened the door with a smile. It was their usual deliverer. "You get prettier every week," he said as he handed her two extra large pizza boxes.

"Thanks – so do you." She smiled flirtatiously as she handed him a check, knowing Joey was more amused than jealous. The pizza guy, tongue tied and flattered, ambled away wordlessly. Rachel closed the door and saw Joey snickering.

"You Green girls got some smooth moves, don't you?"

"Oh, baby," she purred, "you haven't even begun to see my moves yet." Her words had the desired effect of making him both aroused and embarrassed at the same time. Feeling pleased with herself, she placed the pizzas in the oven to stay warm until Dina arrived, then got her checkbook from spot where she'd left it on the bar. Just as she was about to put it back in her purse, she remembered something.

"Joey, I forgot to give you the rent check, didn't I?"

He looked puzzled. "The – what?"

"Hang on, I'll do it right now while I've got my checkbook out." She took a pen out of her purse and began to fill out the check for her half of the monthly rent.

"Woah – Woah – Woah. No rent checks!" He got up from Emma's blanket and marched across the room to where she stood, putting his hand over her checkbook. "All right?"

Rachel stared at him, unsure how to respond. "Why not?" she finally asked, for lack of anything more relevant to say.

"Because. You are my girlfriend, and girlfriends don't pay _rent_." He spoke the word as if it were a vile curse. "Roommates pay rent, and we are _way_ past roommates."

"But sweetie," she talked slowly, knowing she was entering a delicate area involving his male pride. "Even if we were _married_, I'd still expect to pay half of our living expenses."

His face lit up with surprise. "Are you saying you want to get married?"

She backtracked rapidly. "I'm saying, relationships are like partnerships, you know? We've always been fifty-fifty in everything. Why should that change now?"

"It _has_ changed. This is not a business deal here. You're my girlfriend, and you're not going to _pay_ me to live here." He flipped her checkbook cover down. "End of story."

Rachel chewed on the end of her pen, choosing her next words carefully. "I've been paying half of the rent ever since I moved in here. It makes it feel like this place is mine, too. Does that make sense?"

"This place is yours whether you pay rent or not. Wherever I live is half yours, always."

"But Joey – whose name is on the lease? I'm pretty sure it's not my name." She tapped the pen on the counter, hoping to avoid an argument with him. The last thing she wanted was for his sister to walk in on them bickering about the rent. "Paying rent is the only thing that makes me feel like I contribute here. I just assumed I'd continue, no matter what happens between us."

"Look, I make more than enough money to afford this place. I could afford a place much better than this, to tell you the truth, but I like it here, so I stay. I don't need your money and I'm not taking it." He stalked past her to the fridge and took out a beer just as Dina, holding R.J., was opening the door. Rachel shoved her checkbook back into her purse, resolving to bring the issue up later.

Greeting Dina with a high pitched squeal, Rachel took R.J. from his mother's arms and pressed her cheek against his. Joey was playfully bear-hugging Dina as she responded with babbled endearments. 

Rachel carried R.J. to the Barcalounger and sat down, holding him on her lap. His dark eyes peered curiously at her as she studied his face. 

__

He looks like a miniature Joey, she thought with amazement. The same dark hair, the same coffee colored eyes, the same handsome Italian features, only in smaller proportions. A warm outpouring of maternal love flooded through her as she gazed at Joey's nephew, catching her off guard with its intensity. She realized that, for first time in her life, she was seeing the face of her beloved looking back at her in the form of a baby. That hadn't happened with her daughter. Emma looked exactly like Rachel, with no visible resemblance to Ross. Even Ross had said as much. When looking at Emma, she saw an earlier version of herself. But as she sat there, cradling this tiny replica of the man she was falling in love with, she could see babies who had yet to be born. Her babies. Joey's babies. Something she'd never considered suddenly seemed like an inevitable reality, lingering tantalizingly on the horizon just ahead of her. 

__

Joey and Emma and I. And another baby, someday - together, she thought as she snuggled R.J. closer. Emma shrieked a jealous protest at seeing her mother with another baby. Rachel picked Emma up and sat down again, balancing a baby on each knee. Light-haired, blue eyed Emma on the left and black-haired, brown eyed R.J. on the right. Dina and Joey, hearing Emma's tantrum, turned to Rachel and the babies.

"Isn't that a beautiful picture?" Dina enthused. Her admiration of Rachel bordered on idolatry, and any attention to her son always pleased her.

Joey looked at the only woman he'd ever loved as she held two babies, one a perfect likeness of herself, the other a carbon copy of him. It was everything he'd wanted since the night he fell in love with her and everything he thought he'd never have.

Rachel looked into his eyes from across the room, seeing that he felt everything she was feeling, that the same visions of their future were dancing before his eyes just as they were hers. What did a rent check matter, she asked herself. The bond between her and Joey was about so much more than who paid the rent.

She cuddled both babies closer to her as they looked at each other curiously. Joey slowly let out a sigh, finding no other vent for his emotions.

"Most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he answered, putting his arm around his sister.

~*~*~

"It's just been really hard," Dina said as she picked at her pizza. "Bobby's band isn't doing so good, and he can't help me much financially. Mom watches R.J. as much as she can, but daycare still eats up almost everything I make."

Joey launched into another profane rant against Bobby, causing Dina to look down, shamefaced. Rachel pinched his hand under the bar, signaling him to drop it. 

"I know how hard it is, believe me." Rachel reached across and patted Dina's hand comfortingly. "Emma's father helps me out with everything, or I would be spending more than I could afford on daycare too."

Dina's eyebrows formed a straight line as she squirmed uncomfortably on her barstool. Rachel knew that look. It was the exact same expression Joey wore when he was about to ask her something while expecting a "no" answer.

"Joe, I was kinda thinking. If Bobby doesn't start pitching in, I'm not going to be able to pay my rent much longer. I'll have to take R.J. and move in with mom and dad."

Joey took a long sip of his beer before answering. "I'm listening."

"I was wondering - I know Rachel lives here now, but if she decided to – I don't know, maybe get her own place or, or – move back in with Emma's dad – maybe R.J. and I could be your new roommates?"

Joey and Rachel were both speechless. They glanced at each other in shocked silence as Dina sat opposite, timidly waiting for one of them to speak first. Rachel remained quiet. It was Joey's place to decide how much he told his family and when to tell them.

He recovered his powers of speech and reluctantly addressed his sister. "D – you know how much I love you and little R.J. – and you know how much I'd love to live with you guys. But – but you see –" he looked at Rachel, seeking confirmation from her before telling the rest of the story. She nodded her assent. He continued. "You see, Rachel and I – we're –" he stopped, smiling awkwardly as he struggled to find the words. "We're kind of seeing each other."

Dina dropped her pizza onto the plate. "_Seeing_ each other? Like – like –" she stammered.

Joey's eyes drifted to Rachel's face then back to his sister. "I'm in love with Rachel."

"What about you?" Dina asked Rachel, hostility lurking behind her eyes at the thought of anyone, even her idolized Rachel, rejecting her brother's love.

"I'm pretty crazy about him, too." Rachel slipped her hand into Joey's beneath the bar.

"And?" Dina insisted.

"_And_? What do you mean, _'and'_?" Joey answered. "_And_, we're together."

Dina picked up her slice of pizza and calmly resumed eating. "Bout time," she mused aloud.

Joey and Rachel exchanged speechless looks for the second time. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?" he asked.

Unruffled, Dina refilled her glass with diet soda. "Mom and I have been wondering when you two would finally get around to it." She turned up her glass, sipping her soda as if this were the most mundane conversation in the world.

"You've been talking about this with _Mom_?" Joey blustered.

Dina shrugged. "Sure. We've all seen it coming." She took another bite of pizza. "For a while now." She beamed at her brother across the bar. "Mom is going to be so happy when I tell her the news."

It was Rachel's turn to stammer confusedly. "How – _how_ – did you see this coming?"

"You're all he talks about when he comes home." Joey looked away from the two women as his sister spoke. "It used to be Ross and Chandler this, Ross and Chandler that. Then you move in with him, and every week it's more about you until you're the only thing we hear about. So one night he comes over for dinner and says that you were going to move out because of the baby coming, but he talked you into staying."

Rachel's eyes misted over at the memory. Dina continued. "It was like, he couldn't go on if you left. And from there it just got worse every week. He was so miserable when you moved back in with Emma's dad. He came over and told us about it. Mom looked at me after he left and said 'When do you think he's going to realize he's in love with her?'"

"You and mom and your crystal ball," Joey said, pretending to sulk.

Dina ignored him. "I asked mom, 'Do you really think he's in love with her?' and mom said, 'Of course he's in love with her, and she's in love with him, or she wouldn't have stayed with him so long in the first place.' We've just been waiting for you two to figure it out." Dina helped herself to more pizza with a self-satisfied smile.

Rachel reached over and pinched Joey's cheek playfully. "If that isn't the sweetest thing I ever heard," she cooed in the baby-talk voice she usually reserved for Emma and small dogs. "You woved me and I woved you and evewyone knew it but us."

"Cut it out," he growled, trying to hide a smile. 

Chandler burst through the door without knocking. Seeing Dina, he greeted her politely before continuing. 

"You guys come over. Monica has some big news to tell everyone."

Rachel jumped off her barstool. "What is it? Is she ok?"

Chandler's face was shining with happiness. "She's fine. But if I say anything else, she'll kill me. She wants to tell everyone herself." He turned to Dina. "You'll come too, right?"

"Sure," Dina replied in surprise.

Rachel picked up Emma as Joey picked up R.J., and the five of them followed Chandler across the hall.

Ross, Charlie, Phoebe, and Mike were already there, gathered around the table as Monica passed out champagne flutes. Mike popped the cork with a sound like a gunshot and began filling everyone's glasses. Monica put her hand quickly over her glass. "None for me," she said as Chandler took a small bottle of sparkling cider from the fridge and filled Monica's glass from it.

"Why not? This is your big night," Phoebe said.

"I'll tell you why." Monica reached over, taking Chandler's hand in hers before drawing a deep breath and looking slowly at the faces assembled around her - both old friends and new, relatives and babies.

"Because we're pregnant!" she shouted.

A collective gasp went around the room. "When? Are you sure?" they all seemed to ask at once.

"We're sure. The doctor confirmed it yesterday." Chandler said, grinning irrepressibly.

There was a pandemonium of hugging and kissing and congratulating. Rachel squeezed through the crowd to hug her best friend.

"I'm so happy for you!" she said through her tears.

"I know," Monica answered, as her own tears of joy streamed down her face.

"And you," Rachel said, punching Chandler's shoulder. "Good work, sailor!"

Joey broke in to hug Chandler and Rachel stepped away. She wandered over to the balcony alone and stood looking out into the night, pondering how much everything was changing. 

__

But it's all for the better, she realized. _For the first time, everyone is with someone and everyone is happy._ She watched the scene before her, the people she loved most: Monica and Chandler enjoying their moment of supreme happiness. Mike with his arm wrapped carelessly around Phoebe. Ross holding Emma. Charlie explained the meaning of paleontology to Dina, who was bouncing R.J. on her lap. And Joey, looking at her with all the love she could ever desire so evident in his eyes.

~*~*~

That night after the festivities died down and Dina left, Rachel and Joey took the sleeping Emma up to the roof of their building. The evening had been overwhelming and they both wanted a few minutes to reflect and unwind.

"This week has been something else, huh?" he was standing behind her, with his arms around both her and Emma.

"It's been the happiest week of my life." She looked out across New York City, wondering if there were two people more in love than she and Joey were at that moment.

"If anything else wonderful happens, I won't be able to handle it," she added, laughing as she spoke. She was imagining the beautiful possibilities that life held for all of them, as she and Joey and Emma stood safely ensconced in a world of their own.

~*~*~

The next morning as Rachel prepared to take Emma to Ross' apartment before work, Ross himself suddenly appeared at her door. It was the first time they'd been alone since they'd had that horrible fight.

"Can I come in?" he asked politely.

"Sure," Rachel replied, more than ready to meet him halfway in the effort to make peace. "Joey had an early call on the set this morning." She wanted Ross to know that Joey was gone, hoping that would soften him towards her. "I was just about to drop her off at your place."

"Yeah, Molly is already there, but I wanted to come get her myself." His voice was toneless, devoid of feeling. He sat down on a stool, studying his hands.

Rachel's stomach turned involuntarily. Something was wrong, very wrong. He was too calm, too subdued, while the very air around him was electric. Her mind raced for something to say but came up empty.

"We need to talk," he finally said. Still the same horrible calm, the carefully measured words.

__

The worst words in the English language, she thought as dread punched itself into her gut.

"What – what about?" she stammered, her imagination reaching to uncover whatever it was that had brought him there that morning.

"I didn't want to get into this last night – it was my sister's big night and I wanted it to be about her and not us, for once." Rachel nodded, reaching into her bag for a melba toast cracker which she handed to Emma.

"I've been thinking about this nonstop, and there's no easy way to say it – so I'm just going to say it."

Rachel froze, her blood turning into ice water. He looked at her as the next words came from his mouth, seemingly in slow motion.

"I've decided to seek custody of Emma."


	7. Save Tonight

Chapter 5

****

Past & Present

Chapter 5: Save Tonight

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters. But I'd love to own at least one of them.

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have had this chapter ready to go for several days, but I had **severe** uploading problems and couldn't publish it. Sorry for the delay!

The next chapter is almost ready to go and should be up soon. Meanwhile, I have a question for my readers. I posted this one in "Joey's Diary" as well. **I have an idea for a short J/R high school fic. If you guys are interested in reading it, I'll make it my next project. Please let me know how you feel about that idea in your review or by email.**

I know people either love or hate high school fics, but to my knowledge, no one has done a J/R high school story (if I'm wrong about this, please let me know so I can read it!). I'd love to do it, but only if people want to read it.

As usual, read, review, enjoy, and stay tuned for the next chapter.

~*~*~

Rachel had always heard about people under duress seeing their entire lives flashing before them, but never until that instant had she experienced it herself.

"You're – you're _what_?" she stammered. Surely she had heard him wrong.

"I've decided," he said slowly and deliberately, as if she were a child who couldn't comprehend his words, "to seek custody of Emma."

"No, you're not." She felt a surge of authority as she addressed him. This was too ridiculous an idea for anyone, even Ross with his - often misguided - sense of right and wrong, to pursue.

"Yes, I am." His tone was flat and without anger. The realization of his seriousness hit her with the force of a blow. This wasn't a plan hatched in the heat of jealous anger. This was Ross at his logical, methodical, unemotional worst. 

Rachel's stomach turned. Her hands grew cold. An image of herself carrying Emma into a courtroom flashed through her mind. She knew that her life was about to be divided into "before" and "after" in one clean cut. The knowledge filled her with sickening fear.

She opened her mouth to speak, but words wouldn't form. Ross sat on the barstool motionless, watching her like a cat at a mouse hole. She swallowed back her panic and tried to speak again.

"Why?" The word came out in a shaky breath.

Ross shrugged. "I think I can give her a better home."

Rachel's mouth fell open in outrage at his posturing. It took several seconds for her to reply. "You're not really going to pretend _that's_ your reason, are you?"

"I don't need another reason. I am the _only_ one acting like a responsible parent here."

"_How_ have I been irresponsible? By daring to _finally_ move on from our relationship? Because I have to tell you, Ross – that won't hold up in court."

"I think any judge will see that she's better off living with her financially stable father than – " He stopped, turning his attention to Emma, who sat quietly on the floor.

"Than _what_?"

"Than with her mother, who doesn't even have her own apartment and is more interested in her _love life_ than in being a parent."

"Just say it. Admit that the real reason, the_ only_ reason you're doing this, is Joey."

"A man with his history with women has no business living with an unrelated female child."

"It was fine for him to live with an 'unrelated female child' until last weekend, though, right?" Her eyes narrowed. "Why the sudden change of heart, Ross?"

"Because – It's _Joey_, for God's sake! I don't want him dating Emma as soon as she turns sixteen!" The first spark of anger heated his face.

"And you don't want _me_ dating him, ever." 

"Do you know what I said to Monica, the day that Joey told me how he felt about you?" He paused, waiting for her response. When she remained silent, he continued. "The first thing I said – my first concern – was that I didn't want him to be Emma's stepfather."

Rachel threw her hands up. "He's not her stepfather! He and I are just – exploring our feelings."

"Yes, I saw you _exploring_ your feelings that night on the rug while Emma watched. You can _explore_ all you want when my daughter moves out."

"My daughter isn't going anywhere." She picked Emma up and took a step back from Ross.

"You can have her tonight. I'll give Molly the day off and you can keep Emma over here today. But she's coming home with me tomorrow." His smug assumption of victory infuriated Rachel.

"Why can't you be happy for Joey and me? Why do you want to put Emma through this?"

His eyes were like cold steel. "I refuse to make the same mistake twice."

"That makes less sense than anything you've said this morning." 

"I handed Ben over to Carol because I was too young to know better." His face took on the expression of bitter sadness that it always wore when he talked about his first wife. "Susan has been a bigger part of his life than I'll ever be. I didn't take her relationship with Carol seriously back then. If I'd known how long it would last, that she would take over my role in my son's life, I would have fought like hell to hang on to Ben."

__

Carol screwed him up for life, Rachel thought to herself before answering him. "But Ross – I'm not Carol and Joey isn't Susan."

He interrupted her. "No, it's worse. At least Susan isn't another guy. Joey can slide right into my shoes and pretty soon, I won't have a daughter anymore."

"That's never going to happen. Joey would never allow that."

"Yeah, well, Joey was _never_ going to tell you how he felt, and he was _never_ going to act on it, and in my wildest _dreams_ you were _never_ going to end up with him." He frowned at painful memories only he could see. "I've learned to expect the unexpected."

She tried a different approach, softening her tone. "We decided when I was pregnant that we didn't need a custody agreement. That we'd be flexible and work it out between ourselves, without lawyers and judges."

"As you once said – this is the opposite of working out." His mouth twisted sourly.

"Is dragging your daughter into court really the answer?" Her voice was getting louder and higher. 

"There isn't another answer. I want her to live with me, and I know you're not going to just hand her over. I don't have any choice."

Rachel suddenly felt lightheaded. He was actually going to do this to her, to Emma, to all of them.

He continued, carefully holding himself in check as he spoke. "We can make this easy or we can make this hard. You can have a meeting with my lawyer and we can decide the terms ourselves. Or you can fight me and a judge will decide for us."

She exhaled slowly, fighting for control over her turbulent feelings. 

"Face it, Rach. I pay for almost everything she needs. I pay most of Molly's salary. I have my own apartment and I don't share it with some womanizing soap opera star. I've been a responsible father to both of my children. Any court is going to see me as the more fit parent."

She made one last appeal, throwing herself on his mercies. "Ross, please. If you ever loved me – and I know you did – don't do this to me. Let me be happy, for once." 

At the sight of her beseeching eyes, a memory flickered through his mind of a morning long ago. He had begged for her forgiveness, an absolution that she had yet to grant him.

"It isn't about you this time, Rachel." He stood up, gazing down at her with a calm resolve that shook her to the core. "It's about Emma. What's best for her. A concept you aren't able to understand." He walked to the door, turning to look at her again as he opened it.

"I'll be back for her tomorrow morning. Think about what I said." He let himself out so quietly that the Magna Doodle hanging on the door failed to make its usual swinging movement. Rachel and Emma were left alone in the deafening quiet.

~*~*~

Rachel became aware some minutes later that she was laying on her bed, her dress crumpled carelessly, dampened from the cold sweat of anxiety. Emma sat in her crib nearby, examining Cotton and occasionally telling the small pony secrets in her baby dialect that only toys could understand.

The tears hadn't come yet. Rachel wondered when they would strike her, where she'd be when the enormity of this would register clearly in her thoughts. One thing she knew – she didn't want to be alone when it happened.

Her first thought was Joey. Like the distant glow of a lighthouse to a shipwrecked traveler, the thought of Joey's protective arms around her beckoned irresistibly. She snatched the phone from her bedside table, punching in the first digits of his cell phone number. She stopped suddenly, seeing the clock out of the corner of her eye. It was still early. He would be on the set, probably shooting. His scenes with "Olivia" took all of his concentration and he prepared for them at length. She couldn't bring herself to disrupt him. She knew she'd cry the moment she heard his voice, and shooting schedule or not, he'd come home to her. No, she had to find someone else.

Monica and Chandler. Right across the hall. She stood up, smoothing her dress and hair. Monica would understand. She wouldn't take Ross' side when he was this far out of line. 

__

Wait, she told herself. _I can't dump this on her – she's probably eating saltines and fighting morning sickness. She doesn't need to be upset, not with the baby._

She briefly considered calling her mother, then decided against it. She wasn't in any mood to explain her new relationship to the overly critical Sandra.

__

Phoebe. She drew a ragged breath as she picked up the phone again. Phoebe could always be counted on to side with Joey against anyone and anything. Rachel dialed Phoebe's number, tapping her fingernails anxiously on the bedside table while it rang.

"Hello?" a male voice came over the line.

"Is Phoebe there?" she asked hesitantly.

"No she's not. Can I take a message?"

"Do you know where I could reach her?" Rachel felt another wave of panic wash over her. If Phoebe were out of pocket, she'd have nowhere left to turn.

"Who is this?" 

"This is Rachel. Is that you, Mike?"

"Yep, it's me. Phoebe had some early appointments then she was going shopping with Alice and the kids for school clothes. Don't know when she'll be back."

"Oh, " Rachel couldn't stop the quiver of unshed tears from entering her voice. "I guess I'll let you go, Mike." A strangled sob broke free from her chest. "Thanks." She was about to hang up.

"Rachel, wait." He paused, deliberating with himself about whether or not to inquire. "Is everything ok?"

Rachel let a breath out that ended in a choked cry. "No. Everything is about as far from ok as it can get."

Mike's voice was warm. "Is there anything I can do to help? I mean, I know we don't know each other that well, but –"

"It's just this mess with Ross," she said, surprised at how much she was wanted to tell Mike, to unburden herself to someone, anyone.

"Ross and a mess. Somehow, that's not hard to picture." She heard a smile in his voice. "What kind of mess?"

She sighed long and hard. "A custody mess."

"Ah, custody. Parents trying to prove how much they love their kids by ripping each other to pieces." She could almost hear his eyes rolling over the phone line. "Yet another reason why I prefer piano to the practice of law."

Rachel imagined a light bulb materializing above her head. "That's right, you're a lawyer." An idea appeared in the muddled sea of her thoughts with sudden clarity.

"I _was_ a lawyer. And I don't recommend it to anyone as a career choice."

"Do you know anything about custody stuff?"

"I know enough to help a scared friend who needs fast answers."

"Could I interest you in a cup of coffee?" She held her breath, praying he'd say yes.

"Central Perk?" 

"Can you be there in 20 minutes?" She looked at her clock again, noting the time.

"I'll see you there. Save me a scone."

Rachel hung up then quickly dialed the number for her office. Her assistant answered perkily. 

  
"Rachel Green's office, may I help you?"

"Hey, it's me," Rachel said, commanding herself to stay focused. "I won't be in today. Something came up."

"Nothing serious, I hope?" 

"I'll explain later. I've got a meeting with my lawyer." Rachel hung up the phone and went to the closet to remove Emma's stroller.

~*~*~

Mike leaned back on the orange sofa in Central Perk, a far-away look of concentration on his face. "From what you've said, my best guess is that he _is_ going to do this, and to hell with the toll it takes on everyone else."

Rachel put her untouched cup of tea down on the coffee table. "Do you think he's going to win?" She tensed at the thought.

"If I were you, I wouldn't let it get to that point." Mike rumpled his hair thoughtfully. "He has some strong elements to his case. He _is_ a good provider with a stable career and home life. While you – " he paused uncertainly. "No offense, but – you have a questionable living situation right now, and aren't carrying the financial burden of parenthood like Ross is. A court challenge is going to be messy and nasty." He looked at Rachel, compassion in his eyes. "If there is any way to avoid going to court with this, you owe it to yourself to try."

"_How_ do I avoid it? When Ross gets a hold of something, he never lets go." The phrase_ 'We were on a break!'_ echoed through her mind painfully.

"First, try to appease him. Find out what he really wants out of this and make a deal with him. Sacrifice a little time with Emma, make him happy – give him a sense of control." 

Rachel nodded.

"Meanwhile, work on finding your own place. Keep Emma out of your situation with Joey. Let Ross cool off. If he's still beating the war drum, I'll help you find the best lawyer in the city and we'll take it from there."

She buried her face in her hands. "Finding my own place – it's like starting over." She pushed back the thought of Joey's reaction to her leaving.

"Rachel, look – if you end up in front of a judge, every aspect of your personal life will be on display and under scrutiny. Is it really worth it?"

"_My_ personal life? I'm not the one who's been divorced three times and fired from my job over a turkey sandwich!"

Mike was both puzzled and amused. "Obviously, I missed something about the turkey sandwich. And yeah, they're going to bring up everything in his personal life too. The bottom line is, it's going to get ugly for everyone." 

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, wishing that this could all just evaporate like the steam rising from her teacup. Mike's voice brought her back to reality.

"And the worst part is – you might lose."

It took only one glance at Mike to prove that he meant what he said. "I'll start looking for my own place today." She took a sip of her tea, amazed that it could taste the same when the rest of her world lay in shambles around her. "I get to tear my life to shreds over Ross' jealousy. Again."

"Not to disagree with you, but – to me, this doesn't sound like it's about jealousy."

"Well, you don't know Ross very well then."

"You're right, I don't. But I do know the subject matter. To me, it sounds like a guy who lost his first kid to his wife's new partner, and isn't going to go down without a fight for the second kid."

"But why now?" Her eyes silently pleaded with Mike for insight.

"Because Joey's a real threat to him. Maybe he thought the door was still open for the two of you to get back together. You being with Joey probably closed that door to him for good. He knows he's lost you, and he's afraid you're going to take Emma away, too."

She recalled something he'd said to that effect the night he'd caught her with Joey. "He said almost those exact words," she said to herself as much as to Mike. She raised her head and gave him a weak smile. "You've been so great about this. Is there any way I can repay you?"

"I bill by the hour," he said with a wry smile before taking a sip of his coffee. "Actually, there is _one_ thing you could do." He peered into his oversized cup as if it contained all of the answers to life's mysteries.

"What's that?"

He cut his eyes at Rachel slyly, a mischievous smile on his face. "You can help me pick out a ring for Phoebe." 

~*~*~

Half an hour later, Rachel set out across the street, pushing Emma's stroller ahead of her. Determination had solidified in her nerves like cement. She would play his game and let him think he was winning, if that's what it took. She wasn't willing to lose her daughter.

The problem was, she wasn't willing to lose Joey either.

Within minutes she and Emma were at Ross' door. She rallied strength from some inner reserve that she was barely aware of possessing and knocked sharply on his door. She had mentally reviewed his class schedule on the way over and knew he should be home.

He answered the door quickly, a copy of _National Geographic_ still in his hand. His face plainly showed his surprise at seeing her.

Rachel tossed her head back. She wasn't about to let him see that he'd almost broken her again.

"All right, Ross. I'm willing to negotiate. Let's deal."

~*~*~

The sun was just beginning to set when Joey came home. Rachel was in the room she shared with Emma when she heard him coming through the door. She had begun to sort through her belongings after returning from Ross' apartment. It seemed to her that everything began and ended with sorting. Whatever life handed you, there was endless stuff, waiting to be sorted before you could take the next step.

She heard Joey talking to Emma, picking her up from her playpen in the living room. Rachel stepped out of her room, hurriedly shutting the door behind her so that he couldn't see what she was doing in her room.

He smiled happily at her. "Emma and me were just talking about dinner. Any suggestions?"

Rachel shoved all thoughts of Ross and the coming calamity down into the deepest recesses of her mind. Joey read her too easily and she wasn't ready to tell him. Not yet.

"Hmm. What are you in the mood for?" 

"I don't know. We could stay here and order takeout, I guess."

__

Too quiet, she told herself. _We need noise and distractions. _Aloud she said, "What about that burger place you love so much, the one with all the arcade games?"

"We don't have to go there. Why don't we go downstairs and grab a muffin for now?"

"No, no. I really want a burger." _Anything but the coffee house._

Within minutes, Rachel, Joey, and Emma were headed out for Joey's favorite burger joint. She knew the arcade games would keep him busy, giving her time to regain her composure. The agreement she'd made with Ross never left her mind for a second. She was doing the only thing she could do for Emma and for herself. Ross had left her with no other options. But as she watched Joey happily defeating a pinball game, his face illuminated by the garish lighting of the machine, she wondered once again why she'd been given a taste of paradise, only to lose it.

~*~*~

It was Rachel's good luck that Joey had to study his lines for the rest of the evening. She suspected that Mike had told Phoebe everything. Nothing else would account for her absence, under the circumstances. Monica and Chandler were spending their evenings pouring over decorating magazines, planning a color scheme for the soon-to-be nursery. Rachel occupied herself with Emma, occasionally filling in as "Olivia" when Joey asked.

Once she caught him looking at her over the top of his script, his brows knitting themselves together as he studied her face. She gave him a half-hearted smile.

"How's everything with Ross?" he asked cautiously.

"Oh, well – you know Ross," she said vaguely. "He's still a little mad at us." Joey looked alarmed at her words. "Don't worry," she said emphatically, surprised at how easily the deception came. "I'll work it out with him."

With a satisfied nod, Joey turned back to his lines.

__

He always trusts me, she thought to herself. _Even when he knows I'm lying, he chooses to believe I'm not._

The thought didn't ease the pain. She knew she was about to hurt him like no one ever had before.

~*~*~

Joey had collapsed in his bed earlier, shortly after Emma had gone to sleep, leaving Rachel with private time. By the faint gleam of the nightlight, she'd continued sorting, hoping to find an answer somewhere in the tangled mess of her belongings.

Standing wearily from the pile of shoes on the floor, she walked to Emma's crib. She never grew tired of watching her baby sleeping peacefully. Her soft breathing was such a reassuring sound. She resisted the urge to reach into the crib and stroke the soft, fine head full of hair that was growing in so quickly. Her beautiful baby, the biggest surprise of her life – other than Joey. She'd wanted to be a good mother so desperately. Was she already a failure?

She heaved a huge sigh. 

__

Time go to go bed myself, she thought with unexpected sadness. As she began to turn down the Ralph Lauren quilt that covered her bed, she stopped suddenly. For so long, she'd been sleeping alone. In that moment, facing an empty bed again seemed unbearable. Almost instinctively, she looked in the direction of Joey's room.

__

No, no, no - not now. Not the right time. Not like this.

They couldn't take such a big step on the spur of the moment. She sighed again and climbed into her bed, burying her face in the pillow. Immediately, she began tossing and turning. She couldn't seem to get comfortable. She rolled over to the middle of the bed. 

__

Sleeping alone had advantages, right? Like sleeping in the middle of the bed, she thought, _the middle of an empty, lonely bed._

She lay there flat on her back for several minutes, examining her feelings. What did she really want? The answer was simple: to be with someone who loved her. To be comforted, for someone to tell her everything was going to turn out right and to stop worrying.

She wanted Joey.

Throwing back the covers, she got out of her bed and leaving her door carefully ajar so that she could still hear Emma, she walked to Joey's room. She paused before turning the knob, considering what she was going to say to him. She remembered with affectionate amusement that he'd stopped sleeping in the buff since she and Emma had moved back in. For such a ladies man, he was unusually circumspect about protecting Emma from anything he considered improper. He'd quietly gone out five days after they'd moved back in and bought himself some plaid boxers and t –shirts. He'd slept in them every night since.

Rachel took a deep breath and opened his door. In the darkness she could barely see his form underneath the blanket. There wasn't a sound in the room other than his heavy breathing, indicating a deep sleep. She walked quietly to the bed and, pushing the ever present Hugsy aside, sat down opposite him.

Stroking his muscled upper arm softly, she whispered his name. "Joey? Joey - wake up, sweetie."

He turned his head to face her, squinting his eyes. Blinking, he whispered "Hey, baby" and smiled a certain smile that Rachel knew was for her only. No one else in the world got to see that smile. 

"Is everything ok?" he whispered, reaching out to take her hand.

"Yes, yes – everything is fine, but –" she paused, an uncertain expression on her face.

"What is it? Tell me." He squeezed her hand gently.

"I know we haven't – haven't – " she stopped, flustered. "We haven't exactly passed certain – certain milestones - in our relationship."

"We agreed to wait a week." He raised an eyebrow at her suggestively. "Week's up, tomorrow." He squeezed her hand, believing that he knew the purpose of her midnight visit. "Is that why you're here?" She detected more than a hint of eagerness in his voice.

"No, but -" She stopped, reflecting on what he'd said. The week _was_ up tomorrow. That changed her plan for the next day somewhat. "Is there any reason why I can't sleep in here with you tonight? You know, just – _sleep_?"

"I'll do my best to control myself." He moved over in the bed. "But no promises." He was smiling as he patted the empty space beside him for her to fill.

"I just want it to be right, when it's finally our time, you know? I want it to be the right time, for the right reasons – not something that just sort of happens because I had a tough day and needed affection. Is that all right with you?" she asked, laying down beside him and folding herself into his embrace.

"Sure it is." He considered her words for a moment. "I've never waited for the right time with anyone before. It's like a first for me. I guess I'm a little nervous." He was quiet for a few seconds. "More than a little, actually."

She gasped in mock surprise. "Joey Tribbiani is nervous about a _girl_?" 

"Don't tell anybody," he said jokingly before he continued. "You see, this is no ordinary girl. I am totally, completely in love with this particular girl. So if she says we need to wait for the right time, I'll be a good boy and wait. Even if she is sleeping right beside me, looking really hot in her pajamas." He pulled at the ties of her drawstring waistband playfully.

"If we went for it right now, it wouldn't be the right reasons. We've waiting this long, we might as well make it special." She pressed herself against him, wanting to be as close as she could get. "Goodnight, Joey." She tilted her face up to his and kissed him on the cheek.

"It will be special, I can promise you that." He returned her kiss and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Why did you have a tough day?" He asked abruptly, as if it were an afterthought.

"Oh, nothing," she lied. "Just some work stuff."

He accepted this explanation without question. "Nite, Rachel. "

The quiet of the night stole across the apartment. There was one more thing he wanted to say, even if she wasn't ready to say it back.

"I love you," he whispered. 

She gave all appearances of being asleep. 

It was the last peaceful night they would share for a long time. Tomorrow she would face the task of telling him that she was moving back in with Ross. 

****

A/N: This isn't the end. I'll have the next chapter up soon. Please review and also answer the question posted in the Author's Note at the top of the page. Thanks!


	8. If Anyone Falls

****

Past & Present

Chapter 6: If Anyone Falls

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters. But when I saw Matt LeBlanc on the big screen during a preview for "Charlie's Angels" the other day (by the way, "Down With Love" was quite enjoyable), I jumped up and screamed. My companions wished to sedate me and pretended they didn't know me. I guess you could say that I wish I owned at least one of them.

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: After having severe writer's block and being deeply mired in a huge pile of "my writing sucks ass" feelings, I finally managed to pull myself together and produce what I think is my longest chapter yet.

Also, I posted three new reader questions in the bio section of my profile. **Please read them and respond, via email or in your review. ** I have my own vision of where this is going, but I depend on reader response to determine certain developments. Your input is crucial!

Also, the song lyrics used in this chapter are by Stevie Nicks. I love her.

Thanks for being patient with me. Read, review, and enjoy!

P.S. – for those of you guys who are up to speed on your Greek mythology, the role of Cassandra is now being played by Monica.

~*~*~

__

I hear a voice

In the room next to mine  
Feels good

Sounds good  
Closes the door from behind  
And another voice comes through the door  
I am dealing with a man  
Who when away from me

Stays deep inside my heart  
And he says if anyone falls in love  
It will be one of us  
If anyone falls in love  
Somewhere

In the twilight

Dreamtime  
Somewhere

In the back of your mind  
If anyone falls...

~*~*~_  
_

When she woke up, he was gone. 

His side of the bed was still warm. The pillow held the imprint of his head. But he was nowhere in sight.

She wandered into her own room to check on Emma, who was still sleeping, then on to the kitchen to indulge in some ice cream for breakfast. The note on the Magna Doodle caught her eye.

"Gone with Chandler to move stuff"

Then she remembered, as if last night had been an eon ago, how he'd mentioned something about helping Chandler to move the furniture out of the extra bedroom that was going to become the baby's room.

__

Good, she thought. _It gives me time to make my arrangements._

The word "arrangements" struck her as ironic. It was the word people typically used when discussing a funeral.

The ice cream left her unsatisfied. Emma was stirring, so Rachel went through the motions of preparing breakfast for her child as she mentally made a to-do list for the evening ahead.

__

Drop Emma off with Ross. Order dinner from Paul's Café. Get a bottle of wine. Ask Monica to keep Joey well fed and busy until tonight. And find a bakery that can make key lime pie.

The week of waiting was over. They'd passed the test. Nothing would stop her from finishing what had begun in Barbados.

Tomorrow she was moving out.

~*~*~

Rachel had planned the perfect night.

Lobster and filet mignon from Paul's café were keeping warm in the stove. A bottle of her favorite white wine was chilling in the fridge. 

She'd called Monica, asking her to recommend a bakery that could make key lime pie. Monica had insisted on making one for Rachel herself. She had Joey and Chandler occupied with cleaning the baseboards in the guestroom, she'd said, and had plenty of time to run to the store and whip up a quick pie.

Rachel was amazed. Rather than being exhausted during her first trimester like most women, Monica thrived on it. It seemed to have the effect of energizing her.

After briefly wondering if the pie was a peace offering because of Ross' recent behavior, Rachel dismissed the thought and accepted it graciously. Monica knew, Chandler knew – everyone knew and had agreed to let her be the one to tell Joey, just as they'd all carefully refrained from being too critical of Ross. She knew that there would be no taking of sides in this issue, which didn't hurt anyone but certainly didn't help either.

The pie being made and delivered, Rachel had ample time to get dressed and set the scene. A picnic blanket was carefully placed on the living room floor and set for two, with wine glasses and candles completed the effect.

She'd gone into Joey's room and debated with herself about placing more candles around and making a fast trip to the florist to buy some rose petals for tossing on the bed. But in the end, she rejected this idea, along with the plan to replace his well worn but comfortable sheets with the insanely high thread count set she had stashed away for such an occasion.

__

We don't need all that window dressing, she thought as she remembered all the recent interactions that had stopped just short of what would happen tonight. _It will be perfect for us just the way it is now. All we need to make it right is each other._

Smiling at her reflection in his mirror, she went back into the living room and arranged herself on the picnic blanket to await his return.

~*~*~

Hearing Joey approaching the door, Rachel's heart began to beat faster with anticipation.

He flung the door open, scanning the room briefly with his eyes before noticing her sitting on the floor. 

"Heeeeey, nice!" He beamed at her. "A picnic?"

She nodded, gesturing for him to join her on the blanket.

"You expecting somebody special?" He put his jacket on a barstool and sat down across from her.

She nodded again.

"Anyone I know?" he asked in his most flirtatious voice.

"Just this guy," she trailed off and smiled at him shyly.

"Hmmm," he leaned over and kissed her softly. "Some lucky guy."

"Mmm-hmmm. Very lucky." She ran her fingers through his dark hair. "This might just be his lucky night."

He pulled back from her enough to look into her eyes. 

"Are we talking about a 'breaking rule three' kind of night?"

She nodded.

"Because I don't want to do anything until you're ready." He stroked the side of her face with his hand.

"Well - Emma is with Ross," she brushed her lips against his. "And everyone else -" she said as she kissed him again, "knows –" he responded with a kiss that made her breathless - "that we need alone time tonight."

Never taking his lips from hers, he moved them both slowly backwards until they were lying on the floor. Her mind was moving in dizzy circles as she slid her hands underneath his shirt.

She was dimly aware of kicking her shoes off. Hearing the sound of something breaking against the floor, she sat up abruptly, breathing heavily. "What was that?"

"You hit one of the wine glasses with your shoe and broke it."

"Ah, to hell with it. I'll clean it up later." She lay back down and pulled him on top of her. As she did, their eyes met. A giggle escaped from her lips. Soon they were both giggling nervously.

"Do you want to take this to my room?" he asked.

"Yeah," she whispered, trying to push all negative thoughts out of her mind along with the twinge of guilt she felt for not telling him what had developed with Ross.

"Would it be too cheesy for me to carry you in there?" 

"Yes," she said, then paused a beat. "Do it anyway."

It was all happening so fast, but not too fast. He was lifting her from the floor, then they were on his bed. None of his former hesitation was evident now. This was the Joey she'd known in Barbados. 

"Relax," he whispered. "Don't think." She gave her mute assent, attempting to shut off her worried mind.

The loud ringing of the phone startled them both. 

"Let the machine get it," he moaned. He had begun to unbutton her dress.

It rang again.

She put her hand over his before he could move to the next button. "We need to get it. It might be about Emma."

With a groan, she rolled over to pick up the extension beside his bed.

"Hello?"

"Hey," a hoarse female voice replied. "Is Tribbiani there? This is Estelle, his agent."

"Um, he's kind of - kind of busy at the moment."

"Yeah, yeah, I know all about his kind of busy. It's important, I gotta talk to him right now. Tell him to put his pants on and come to the phone."

Rachel handed him the cordless phone. "Your agent," she whispered, kissing her way slowly from his ear to his mouth.

"Estelle? What's going on? Can you make it fast, I'm kind of in the middle of something here." He paused. "Yeah, I remember. They do? Are you sure?" He moved the phone to his other ear. "When and where?" Rachel thought she heard Estelle say "California".

"You gotta be kidding me. No, I'm not doing it." 

He was quiet as Estelle responded loudly, but not loudly enough for Rachel to overhear.

"I don't want it, that's why."

Rachel heard his agent's agitated voice crackle through the phone. 

"I don't care. No, I'm not crazy. I'm not doing it, that's final. I gotta go now, ok? Estelle?" He looked at the phone in surprise before putting it down. "She hung up on me."

"What happened, sweetie?"

"Nothing important. Now, where were we?" He leaned over to kiss her again.

"No, wait – what did she say? Tell me."

He leaned back on his elbows. "There's just this part in a movie, that's all. They want me to come out to L.A. and read for it."

"Oh my God! That's amazing!" _Good news to balance the bad news, _she thought with relief.

"I turned it down."

"You turned it _down_? Why?"

"It's no big deal. I have more important things in my life now than some stupid movie."

"But Joey, you've been dreaming of another movie role! Why won't you go to the audition?"

He shrugged. "It's a 3 month shoot in California. I'm not leaving you for that long."

Rachel had the unsettling feeling that her evening was not going to turn out like she'd planned. "When would they need you, if you got the part?"

"Six weeks from today." He peered at her uneasily. "Why? You trying to get rid of me?"

"No...it's just.." she braced herself. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Uh-oh. This doesn't sound so good."

"It doesn't _have_ to be bad. It can turn out good, if we try." She looked away from him.

"Just say it, Rach."

"You remember that fight I had with Ross the other night?"

"Like I could forget."

"He did some thinking and decided, in his infinite wisdom, that Emma should live with him."

"What? Why is he doing this?"

Nothing could mask her regret as she answered. "Do I really have to tell you why?"

"This is crazy!"

"I know, but – he's talking about taking me to court over this. So, I talked to Mike –"

"You mean Mike knew about this before I did?"

"Try to stay focused, Joe." 

He nodded his response and she continued. "Mike suggested that I try to give Ross some control and to compromise with him so that this doesn't end up in some custody hearing."

Suspicion was beginning to cloud his expression. "And this means…"

"This means," she cleared her throat to get rid of the quiver in her voice. "This means that I can't live here anymore."

"Well, where the heck else are you gonna live?" he asked, puzzled.

She took his hands in hers, unable to meet his eyes. She knew that no prepared speech could soften the pain she was about to cause. "With Ross."

She watched the change come over his face as her words sunk in. 

"Woah, woah, woah. Hold it right there. No. You're not going to live with him. Out of the question."

"I don't have any choice."

"Yes, you do. There's _always_ a choice."

"Just work with me here, ok?" This was her one opportunity to make him understand before the inevitable came to pass.

He got up from the bed and walked into the living room, standing in the middle of the floor as if he didn't know what to do next. With a philosophical shrug, she buttoned up her dress.

__

I suppose there's no chance of finishing **that** tonight, she thought grimly. _Score one for rule three._ She joined him in the living room, where he was pacing rapidly.

"So you're leaving? Just like that?" 

"It's not 'just like that', Joey – it was a very painful decision. I gave this a lot of thought. Do you think I _want_ to do this?"

"Then why are you doing it?"

"Don't you understand? He's going to take me to court if I stay here. I could lose custody of Emma and end up only being able to see her on weekends."

He thew his hands up in frustration. "Maybe – maybe he's bluffing. Does he even have a lawyer?"

"This is Ross. He probably keeps a lawyer on speed dial."

"That still doesn't tell me why you're leaving me."

"I'm not leaving _you_ – I'm just going across the street for a couple of months. Will you hear me out? There's more to the story."

He threw himself down in his chair. "Fine. Go ahead."

"You know Mrs. Braverman downstairs?"

"Cheesecake lady?"

"Yes, cheesecake lady. Anyway, you know how much she likes Emma, right? Yesterday when I got back from setting this up with Ross, I ran into her in the lobby."

"And?"

"And - she could see how upset I was, so she asked what was wrong. I told her that I had to start looking for my own place –"

He interrupted. "But you're moving in with Ross."

"I am, for a while. Let me finish."

He sat back in the chair and folded his arms across his chest.

"It turns out, her daughter in New Jersey is refinishing their attic for Mrs. Braverman to live in. It will be ready in about two months, and she's going to move out. She's going to sublet her apartment to me."

"I'm not following you." He shook his head impatiently.

"I'm going to stay with Ross for two months until Mrs. Braverman moves out, then Emma and I will move in right downstairs." She pasted on a bright smile. "It's the perfect solution. It gets Ross off my back about living with you, but I don't have to move across town or even out of the neighborhood. Isn't it great?"

He seemed less than enthused. "When are you leaving?"

She closed her eyes so as not to see him when she answered. "Tomorrow."

"So what was all of _this_ tonight?" he snapped. She winced. Joey seldom ever spoke to her that way. "What was your plan? For us to do what we were about to do, then you roll over and tell me you're leaving tomorrow?"

"I wanted us to be – together - just once before I have to move out. It's not like we can't see each other, you know. We can still hang out and have private time. Nothing has to change."

"_Everything_ is going to change, and you know it. That's why you set this whole thing up tonight." He got up and headed for his room.

She ran after him. "Joey, please listen! Don't be mad at me! I have to do this – don't make it worse than it already is."

"We're not going to be able to see each other for two months. Tonight is our last night." He sat down on his bed and stared at the wall in front of him.

"That's not true."

"Isn't it? I'm so sure Ross is going to baby-sit for us so we can go out together." He rolled his eyes at her caustically.

"We'll work _something_ out. Don't give up so easily, all right? Even if worse comes to worse, it's only for two months, then I'll have my own place. He won't be able to say anything about our relationship then."

She watched him scowling into the darkness, waiting for him to say something, anything.

"There's a way around this whole thing, you know," he finally said.

"I doubt it, but tell me your idea." She sat down on the bed beside him.

"Marry me."

She blinked, unsure that she'd heard him correctly. "_What_?"

"Marry me. Then our relationship is legal and no one can say a damn thing about it."

She fell back on the bed and prayed for patience. "Joey, we can't get married!"

"Why not?" He was going into his all too familiar loud wheedling mode.

"Well, to pick one reason among many - we're not ready for that. It's too soon." 

"Too soon? We've known each other for ten years. We've lived together for what, four? I'm in love with you, and we're best friends. Yeah, you're right, this is crazy talk!" Sarcasm dripped from every syllable. He got up and went to the kitchen.

She followed him, seeing that he had taken out his saucepan.

"Can we pick a room and stick to it?"

He didn't answer. She saw that he was rummaging through the cabinets.

"What are you looking for?" 

"Tomatoes," he slammed the cabinet door shut and moved to the other one. "How many times do I have to propose before you take me seriously? Maybe the fourth time, you'll say yes."

"This is the second time, not the third. The one in the hospital was an accident."

"Ok, if you want to get technical about it." He slammed a can of tomatoes onto the counter. "You were saying?" His biting sarcasm was increasing with every second. She remembered that he tended to start fights to make parting with someone easier.

"We can't get married just to solve a problem." 

"I hate to burst your bubble, Rach, but _plenty_ of people get married to solve a problem."

"Yeah, plenty of people like Ross!" She walked over to the yellow sofa and shoved all the stuffed animals and toys onto the floor before sitting down. He followed her and took a seat next to her.

"Look, if we got married, you could stay here. You wouldn't have to move in with Ross, or sublet from Mrs. Braverman, or any of this stuff. Things could stay the same." His tone was beseeching. She could feel herself wearing down slightly to his pleading.

"It's impossible to plan a wedding on such short notice," she protested weakly. "I'd need at least a year."

"No you don't. We can do this - we'll get you a dress by that designer you love so much – what's her name, Velma Wing."

"Vera Wang," she corrected.

"Vera Wang it is. We'll decorate the whole place with lilies…I'll ask my producers to get some of the soap opera magazines to do a story on it…think about it, your wedding will be in a magazine."

His powers of persuasion had never been so dangerously effective. She fell into a reverie, seeing herself walking down the isle in a fantasy gown by Vera Wang, the photographers snapping away. 

She pulled herself back to reality, shaking her head as if to erase the vision. 

"This isn't how you want it to be for us, is it?" She tried to make her tone gentle.

"What do you mean?"

"A marriage of convenience. Don't we both deserve better than that?" His face fell, but she saw that he accepted her reasoning. "I'm not saying we'll _never_ get married. I'm saying that this isn't the right time. Can you live with that answer?"

He leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. "I finally got you, Rachel," his voice was small and sad. "I finally got you and I'm already losing you."

She put her arms around him, matching his sadness with her own. "You can never, ever lose me. Don't you know that by now?"

He didn't answer. She took a deep breath. "I think you should read for that part."

"So you don't have to look at my sad face hanging around?"

"Noooo!" she said, rumpling his hair. "Because it's the chance of a lifetime. I don't want you to give it up for me."

"Is this your way of setting a good example?" 

"You turned that part down because you wanted to be here with me. Since I'm moving out, I think you'd be happier doing the movie. Even if it means I don't get to see you every day for a while."

"Yeah but – they don't even start costume tests for six weeks. That means, right about the time you move in downstairs, I'll be leaving to spend three months in California. That's five months apart." 

She hadn't thought of that. She chewed her thumbnail, weighing their options.

"It's not like you can get three months off from work to go with me," he continued, "and even if you did, you can't leave Emma. Plus, there's no way Ross is going to let you pack her off to the West Coast for that long, with me, of all people."

As much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew he was right. "I guess not," she sighed.

"I want to be here when you come home. I'm not doing it." She heard the finality in his voice and knew it was useless to argue with him. A small voice inside her spoke loudly. 

__

He doesn't want to do it! _Stop pushing him into it to make yourself feel less guilty for breaking his heart again._

This was no way to spend their last night for two months. She put her head on his shoulder, and taking his hand, placed it on her leg. She had to try to make things right between them before this separation occurred. She resolved to make one more attempt.

"Now," she breathed, "where were we?"

He turned away from her. "I'm not in the mood anymore." She moved back, stung. This wasn't what she'd planned at all. She tried to kiss him but he refused her.

"Sweetie, don't do this to me, to us, ok? I want this. I want _you_. Please?"

He looked morosely into her eyes. "It's just going to make it harder on both of us if we do this now. I think I'd rather not know what I'm missing."

She could feel the tears rising, threatening to overflow. "Fine, if that's how you really feel," she said, swallowing a sob. She got up from the sofa and went to her room as fast as she could, slamming the door behind her. Throwing herself on her bed, careless of who might hear, she gave in to her churning emotions. 

She had wanted this night to be perfect. She needed to have the memory to sustain her while she lived with Ross. _No one knows how hard this is going to be,_ she thought, _no one but me._ Burying her face in a pillow, she cried for what seemed like a long time.

She looked up in surprise when she felt someone sit down beside her on the bed. It was Joey.

"You can't stay in here and cry all night. You gotta stop, or I'm gonna cry too."

She sat up slowly, wiping her eyes with the corner of the quilt. "Can I have a hug?" she asked in a choked voice.

"All the hugs you want." He put his arms around her. "I have an unlimited supply."

He held her until she stopped crying. There were whispered promises made, secret hopes shared, and even a smile or two exchanged during that long night, as they lay together in the darkness, holding each other as if they couldn't bear to let go.

~*~*~

The alarm went off at 6:00 AM, shocking her from a fitful sleep. She hadn't been aware of drifting off. 

The sleek designer confection she'd donned the night before in hopes of staging a seduction now hung from her in a mass of wrinkles. Her face felt stiff from the carefully applied makeup she'd forgotten to remove. She didn't need a mirror to know that she had streaks of mascara where so many tears had fallen.

Moving her eyes to the side, she saw Joey, fast asleep in his clothes from the previous night. His hair was in disarray. One shoe was missing and he was drooling on the pillow. 

__

So much for our night of wild passion, she thought as she reached over to nudge him awake.

He opened his eyes and squinted as if he couldn't remember where he was or how he got there. She waved a good morning to him. 

He remembered what had to happen soon. It was evident in every line of his face.

"We've got to stop sleeping together fully dressed." Her remark failed to get the desired smile from him. He remained stoically silent.

"I look like hell, don't I?" She tried to brush her hair into some semblance of order with her hands.

"Pretty much." He sat up, looking around her room in the dim morning light, the stacks of bags and boxes she'd packed in secret. "How are we going to get all of this across the street?"

"Everyone already promised to help me do it. Everyone but Monica, that is – for obvious reasons."

"So, everyone – not just Mike, but everyone – knew about this before I did?"

She stood up, silently vowing to never sleep in a Wonder Bra again. Before she could answer him, he had gone into his room. The sound of the door shutting was followed by the clicking sound of the lock.

There was no anger left in her - only the aching knowledge that while he would accept her departure, he would also refuse to witness it.

~*~*~

"I think this is everything," Rachel said, looking at the boxes filling the spare room in Ross' apartment. _Everything but the most important thing, _she thought. The most important thing was the one item she'd had to leave behind and the only one she really wanted.

"Are you sure? Because I think there's room for a few more boxes, if we suspend them from the ceiling," Chandler quipped, waiting for the laughing response that didn't arrive. "Ooooo-kay. Ross and I are going to take a few things down to the storage room." He planted a quick kiss on Monica's cheek. "Be back in a few." 

When she heard the front door shut, Rachel felt as if she could take off the facade of calm acceptance that she'd forced herself to wear all day. Her face crumpled, reminding Monica of things she didn't like to remember, dark times in Rachel's relationship with Ross.

"Do you want me to stay and help you unpack?" Monica was sympathetic. She alone perceived how difficult this was for Rachel.

"No," she sighed. "I've done this before. A few times."

"Alright, but you can call me, day or night, if you need anything. Ok sweetie?"

Rachel blinked back her tears and embraced her friend. Monica was stricken. She loved her brother, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was pushing Rachel into a something they'd all come to regret.

"You need to rest and take care of yourself," Rachel reached down and gave Monica a pat on the stomach. "And whoever is in there. That's what you need to think about right now, not the ten thousandth round of the Ross and Rachel show."

"You guys, come in here and look," Phoebe said, sticking her head into Rachel's room.

Monica looked at Rachel with surprise and shrugged. They followed Phoebe into the living room. She was pointing to the window facing Monica and Chandler's apartment, her large crystal ring catching the dazzling morning sunshine.

"Isn't he so sad?" Phoebe sighed. "He looks like a little lost lamb. A totally hot, sexy lamb. Still lost, though."

Joey was standing in the window of Monica's apartment, beer in hand, watching them with the despair of an orphaned child. His eyes lit up briefly when he saw Rachel, then returned to their former state of misery. He waved his hand at them wistfully before turning away.

"Now, tell me again _why_ he couldn't be here today?" Phoebe asked.

"We said our goodbyes last night. This day is going to be tense enough without having to get between him and Ross constantly." Rachel sat down on the sofa. "I know Ross really doesn't want him anywhere near Emma right now, anyway." She rubbed her furrowed brow with her hand, trying to forget the image of Joey's heartbroken face watching her through the window.

Monica sat down next to her, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Honey, are you _sure_ that this is the best thing for you?"

"No. I'm sure this is the _worst_ thing for me. But it's the only option Ross gave me."

"But what about Joey?" Monica felt that she'd never overcome the strangeness of her two friends falling in love with each other. "Don't you – " she stumbled a bit over the word – "_love_ him?"

"I don't know…I think so...sometimes, when we're together, it's like – like I've always loved him. Things with him are so easy and comfortable, you know?" 

Monica and Phoebe were suddenly busy arranging the coasters on Ross' coffee table.

"And I know he loves me. But Ross thinks he's losing Emma. He's got this crazy idea that I'm going to try to raise her with Joey – I guess the way Carol has raised Ben with Susan. What else could I do but move out? Joey and I have to find some way to live through the next two months until we can be together again." 

Rachel looked up in time to intercept the uncomfortable glance that passed between Monica and Phoebe. "You two are never going to get past this, are you?"

"It's just weird, you know? I mean, it's _Joey_." Phoebe said with a dramatic gesture. "And it's _you_, and you guys are like, in love, and, and doing it, and stuff. It's like Ken dating Skipper instead of Barbie. Or me eating meat! It's a crime against nature!"

"Yeah…first, in this scenario, if I'm Skipper and Joey is Ken, who's Barbie?"

"Ha, ha – wouldn't you like to know?" Phoebe flashed her trademark quirky smile.

"Said the woman who married a gay ice dancer who wasn't gay after all, then ate a cheeseburger when he left town." Rachel put her feet up on the coffee table in a way that would've horrified Ross if he saw it.

"I'm not going to lie to you," Monica began. "It _is_ weird for all of us. But you know something? It was weird for all of you when Chandler and I got together. You guys got over it –"

"Some of us are still a little freaked out by that," Phoebe interjected.

Monica silenced Phoebe with a look. "_Most _of you guys got over it, and we'll get over this too. It's uncomfortable right now because we're not used to it yet, plus your history with Ross, and now all this stuff is happening about Emma, but give us time." She patted Rachel's hand. "We love both of you. If you're happy, we're happy."

"But will we be happy again?" Rachel persisted. "Will there be anything left between us when this is over?"

"Of course there will! You know that we all think Ross is being a little mental about this." Monica placed her hand unconsciously on her still flat abdomen. "But life has a way of surprising you. Look at me and Chandler – low motility, inhospitable environment – then one crazy weekend, and – surprise! Here were are." Phoebe nodded in agreement. "You're going to get through this. Things have a way of working out better than any of us could plan."

They were interrupted when Chandler burst through the front door, flexing like a body builder. "I went to the storage room. Oh yeah. I went down there, it was dark and spooky, I kicked its ass!" He stood in front of Monica. "You wanna know why? Because I'm a **MAN**. M – A - N!" He grabbed Monica's hand and pulled her up. "Give daddy a kiss."

Monica wrinkled her nose. "You smell a little weird. You didn't wet yourself while you were kicking the storage room's ass, did you daddy?"

"That would be the scent of ammonia," Ross answered. "While kicking the storage room's ass, he turned over an entire bottle of it on himself."

"Who left the cap off the bottle? Huh?" Chandler countered.

"Probably - I don't know, just a wild guess – _the janitor_?" Ross smirked.

"Yeah well, who caused me to knock it over in the first place, _by grabbing me and running away like a girl, _just because he saw a spider?"

"I am highly allergic to insect bites of all kinds!" 

"On that note," Monica took Chandler's hand and pulled him to the door, "You're going home and getting cleaned up before you touch _any_ of my furniture."

"But I've already got ammonia all over me. Isn't that a type of cleanser?" Monica waved goodbye and closed the door behind them.

"I've got to take off, too. I'm meeting Mike for coffee." As she bent down to pick up her purse, Phoebe leaned over and whispered in Rachel's ear. "Enjoy the view from your window." She smiled over her shoulder as she walked out.

Except for Emma, Ross and Rachel were suddenly alone together. Years of tumultuous history hung between them like a ghost.

Rachel thought back to the time before she and Ross started dating each other, when they were just friends. _We were such good friends_, she thought, _we could trust each other completely. Why can't we go back to that?_ But she knew there was no returning to that time. Too much had happened, too many hurtful words had been said, words that could never be taken back.

Ross put his hands in his pockets and stood awkwardly. He looked as uncomfortable as she felt. 

"All settled in?" he asked politely.

"Yeah, I think so. Just need to unpack some stuff."

"Is there anything you need? Anything I can get for you?"

Rachel felt a twinge of annoyance. She hated when he acted like this. He knew he'd won, so he was being overly polite and solicitous. It was his way of gloating.

"No, I'm fine." She took a deep breath, trying to conquer her irritation with him and the whole situation. "I'm just going to take a quick nap while she's asleep. That way I'll be totally rested and can watch Emma while you and Charlie go to that museum thing tonight."

"We're uh…we're not going to the museum."

"Oh – why? Was it canceled?"

"Sort of," he looked at his feet. "I canceled it. I told Charlie that I wanted to be here for Emma's first night back home."

Rachel nearly escaped an outburst of scornful laughter. "She spends three or four nights a week here with you. It's not like she's coming 'home' from summer camp or something." _Get a grip, Ross_, she said to herself.

"I know, but – I wanted us to be a family tonight." He fixed his most sincere hangdog gaze on her.

__

I cannot deal with sentimental Ross, she thought with exhaustion, _not now._

"I think I really need a nap, ok? We can talk more tonight." She went to her room and shut the door, leaving Ross alone in the living room. He marched to the window, grimacing as he yanked the drapes shut.

~*~*~

At the precise moment that Rachel closed her door, Joey was closing the door to his apartment.

__

My apartment, he reminded himself. _Not our apartment. Just mine._

Alone.

He tried to study the room around him dispassionately.

All his possessions remained exactly where they were yesterday. To the casual observer, it would appear that nothing was different.

But to Joey, it was like seeing the aftermath of a natural disaster.

The stacks of fashion magazines that normally littered every surface were gone. Absent as well were the myriad baby toys, the makeup and hairspray in the bathroom, the earrings that Rachel would always take off before bed and leave carelessly on the bar. The big pink "E" was gone from the place where it had hung for so long, and he didn't dare look into the bedroom where they had spent the previous night.

He opened his fridge to get another beer. A perfect key lime pie sat inside, untouched. In the sink was a single wine glass. He remembered the sound the other one had made when her shoe hit it.

One glass was in tact. The broken remains of the other one were no doubt crammed into the garbage. Joey felt a kinship with glasses for the first time in his life.

He opened his beer and took a long drink. _A nap,_ he told himself. _I'll sleep this off. Things will be better when I wake up._

He began to walk the familiar path to his room then stopped, looking down at the spot where the picnic blanket had been the night before. 

Overwhelmed, he threw the bottle of beer at the bathroom door. It shattered into countless shards on the floor.

He left it where it was, burying himself in his bed. The mess wasn't going anywhere and he needed sleep. Joey knew that sometimes it was impossible pick up all the pieces.

****

A/N: To be continued. You won't see what's coming next, I promise!


	9. Something That You Said

****

Past & Present

Chapter 7: Something That You Said

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters. But can I borrow Joey for a weekend sometimes?

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've gotten so many emails asking for an update – I'm sorry about the delay! I had an unexpected job assignment to tackle, followed by my yearly (and much dreaded) checkup and a few other crazy happenings. Also, I changed my mind about a major plot development and had to redo my outline for this story and such.

I have the next chapter written. All it needs is a few revisions. I had planned to wait and upload them together, but since so many of you were clamoring for an update, I decided to go ahead and publish this one by itself. I really enjoyed writing this, and hope the "chat sequence" doesn't bother anyone too much, it just seemed to fit with the flow of the situation.

I borrowed a few of Phoebe's lines from episode 612, and the song used in this chapter is "Something That You Said" by The Bangles – my vote for the ultimate J/R song…one glance at the end of "TOW Rachel's Dream" explains why!

Please read, review, and enjoy – keep those emails coming! Also, see my bio section for a few observations about the writing of this story and the whole J/R thing.

~*~*~

__

Everything in a moment starting where

Something you said is hanging in the air

Now I know my life is sweetening

Changing everything…

Something that you said 

Turned me from the inside out

Running through my head

Something I have dreamed about

And I feel so real

And it feels so right 

Something you said…

~*~*~

Rachel pulled the last tissue from the box beside her bed before tossing the empty container to the floor impatiently. She blew her nose then threw the tissue into the small color coordinated wastebasket nearby. With a congested groan of misery, she fell back on her stack of pillows and turned her eyes to her clock radio.

Time for "Days Of Our Lives". 

In a single stealth movement, she unearthed the remote control from its hiding place within the piles of blankets and switched it to NBC, snuggling down into her bed with a smile.

It was, she reasoned, the only chance she'd have to see Joey that week. Ben had slept over the second night after she and Emma had moved back in, giving everyone in the apartment except Ross a terrible cold. Rachel came down with it first, followed by Emma. Ross seemed somehow immune to it – no doubt his prodigious use of hand sanitizing gel helped to ward off cold germs.

Being too stuffed up to breathe, much less accomplish anything at work, Rachel had spent the past week at home recovering and taking care of Emma. Everyone had avoided Ross' apartment in an effort to keep Monica from catching it. She had only seen her friends through the window and was so starved for adult conversation that she caught herself talking back to the hosts of the TV Guide Channel more than once.

She hadn't seen Joey since the day she moved out. He hadn't phoned even though she was sure that he knew she was home alone during the day. Taking her cue from him, she had resisted the urge to dial his number every hour on the hour.

Monica called several times a day to check on Rachel and Emma, and had told Rachel that Joey was holed up in his apartment, nursing his heartbreak with pizza, sandwiches, and beer. Rachel had hinted around, trying to find out if Monica was aware of the potential movie role. If Monica did know something, she was doing a convincing job of pretending otherwise.

Rachel gasped as Joey's face lit up her TV screen, breaking her train of thought like a fist through a plate-glass window. The very sight of him provoked a physical reaction. Despite her wretched cold, every fiber of her being cried out for him, demanding his touch in a way that would accept no refusal.

__

"Don't deny everything we feel for each other," Drake said to Olivia.

"I can't deny it," Rachel whispered to the phantom image on her television. "Believe me, I've tried."

~*~*~

"You didn't have to buy one of everything, you know," Rachel sniffled as she examined the bottles of various jewel-colored liquids and the boxes of gel caps, each promising safe and effective relief from cold symptoms. One allowed you to rest. Another kept you awake. And yet a third left you in neutral.

"Effective cold relief is obtained from a variety of treatments, not just one," Ross answered in his best professor voice. "There are daytime treatments, nighttime treatments, and other treatments for specific symptoms on an as-needed basis." He handed her a glass of water. "Start with the non-drowsy formula, for now."

Rachel smothered a snicker as she removed two gel caps from the package. Ross was so paranoid about germs. He obviously intended to blanket her in such a thick haze of medication that the sheer volume of it would protect him from catching anything.

It _was_ thoughtful of him to bring her all of this. In fact, as she looked back over the past week, Ross had been a model of consideration. He had brought her anything she wanted to eat, taken care of Emma all night so Rachel could sleep, and avoided any controversial topics, allowing a shaky peace to rein for the time being.

Even now he was giving Emma a cup of Pedialite, something she'd never tolerate from Rachel. But then, he was always wonderful with Emma, who was looking up at her father with nothing short of worship for him sparkling in her eyes.

__

He's good to have around in a crisis, Rachel reflected, trying not to compare him to Joey and failing miserably.

She gazed at the new box of tissues, the freshly emptied wastepaper basket, and the veritable pharmacy beside her bed. Joey wouldn't have thought of these things. No, Rachel mused –Joey would have never brought home Nyquil. He would have burst in with pints of ice cream and stacks of soap opera magazines to entertain her, repeating shocking gossip about the stars that filled the glossy pages. They would have lived on a steady diet of delivered pizza and "Beavis & Butthead" reruns on DVD until she recovered enough to insist on something healthier both to eat and to watch.

Ross was taking great care of her. But Joey would have made her laugh.

~*~*~

The sound of Ross briskly turning pages as he read "The Scientific American" brought the only relief to the deadening silence of the apartment. The unaccustomed quiet plucked away at Rachel's nerves until she felt as if they would snap at any moment. But, as she reminded herself, it was like this every night. This was life at Ross' place.

As per their routine, Emma was trying to maneuver her walker around the living room. Rachel was making her way through the latest issue of "Cosmo" and breathing freely for the first time in a week. She pulled the crochet afghan that Monica had made for her across her knees, wishing she had a Barcalounger to lay back in rather than Ross' none too comfortable sofa.

She looked up as Ross crisply turned another page in his magazine, then raised his eyebrows and said "hmm" to himself for the tenth time in so many minutes.

The funny thing was, this was his idea of a good time.

__

Good God – it's like a library in here. Rachel tossed her magazine onto the coffee table and reached for the remote.

"How about some TV?" she said as she switched on the set.

Ross glanced at her over the top of his magazine, looking less than pleased. After surfing for a minute, she settled on a channel.

"All right! 'Celebrity Mole Alaska'!" She leaned back on the couch with a satisfied smile. "How about some popcorn?"

"Rach," he intoned, "Don't you think we should watch something more…" he paused delicately.

"Boring?" she suggested.

"Educational," he answered. "Especially with Emma in the room." He took the TV Guide from the coffee table and flipped through it. "There's a special on the Discovery Channel about coral reefs. Doesn't that sound _fascinating_?"

"Give me that." She took the TV Guide from him and turned to the listings for that night. "We _could_ watch the coral reef thing…" She scanned the page and pointed excitedly at a listing. "_Or_ we could watch the "True Hollywood Story" about the Hilton Sisters!"

He wrinkled his nose disdainfully. "Hilton? _Who_?" He shook his head. "Ok, I have an idea. We'll compromise. Switch over to A&E."

Rachel did so, sighing as the host of "Biography" began to drone on about the life of Hemingway. 

"See? This is just like 'True Hollywood Story' only it's about people _everyone_ has heard of!" Ross put down his "Scientific American" with a jubilant smile and fixed his eyes on the television screen.

Excusing herself, Rachel walked back to her room and removed the latest Nora Bing romance from her bedside table, stopping off in the kitchen to get graham crackers for Emma and a bag of tortilla chips for herself before heading back to the living room. 

She gave Emma a cracker and then curled up on the sofa. She opened her chips, preparing to tune out the sound of Hemingway with the purple prose of Chandler's mother.

"Rach?"

She looked up to see Ross looking at her the way Monica always did when Rachel had left a towel on the bathroom floor.

"Crumbs…" he gestured to her chips.

Rachel bit back a sarcastic answer and got up from the sofa again. "I'll just go watch TV in my room." She moved to pick up Emma.

"No – let her stay with me." He looked crestfallen. "You go get some rest."

Rachel closed her door and flopped down on her bed, resolving to go back to work the next day no matter how she was feeling.

She imagined Joey in his apartment, eating chips and drinking beer in his favorite chair or going over his lines for the next day. It was impossible for her not to picture herself there with him. Pestering him to know what was happening the next day on "Days Of Our Lives". Making a bet with him about who would get booted off whatever mindless reality show they were watching. Basking in his praise of her cooking when she mastered the art of "break and bake" brownies. 

It was beyond her control. She found herself missing him in ways that she had never imagined.

~*~*~

__

Showing you every weakness

Feeling strong for it

I used to run from real love

Now I long for it

Now I know what I've been missing

Since I've been listening…

Something that you said

Turned me from the inside out

Lying in my bed

Whispering your name out loud

And I feel so real

And it feels so right

Something that you said

Got through to me tonight

~*~*~

Rachel shivered as she crossed the street the next morning. She was dressed for work, briefcase in hand. 

__

If I don't see something besides the interior of Ross' apartment, she told herself as she pushed open to door to Central Perk, _I'm on the short list for involuntary commitment._

Taking a deep breath, she glanced around the coffee shop, hoping against hope to see Joey slumped in his chair, gorging on muffins as if nothing were amiss. She asked Gunther for a coffee and muffin to go as she searched the room for Joey's presence. 

He wasn't there.

She felt unreasonably devastated. Why did it mean so much to her, the thought of walking into the coffee house and seeing him, just like she had a thousand mornings before? Why did she need that so much today? She took a bite of her muffin, her mind going back unbidden to her waitressing days. Joey had been struggling for every dime back then. Out of all six of them, they were the only two who were chronically broke. Even Phoebe was making more money than she and Joey in those days. Somehow, she'd managed to sneak free muffins for the both of herself and him. Those forbidden, stolen muffins tasted better than anything money could buy.

__

Maybe because we shared them. _If I had known then what I know now…_

The memory stung like a physical pain. In a fit of self-disgust, she stuffed her muffin back into the paper bag. _Look at me, getting all morbid over a cranberry muffin._

Phoebe was strumming her guitar and warbling her way through "The Ballad Of Dick And Yasmine" while Mike sat on the sofa, nursing a cup of coffee. 

"Any sign of Joey lately?" Rachel asked Mike, hiding her rabid to desire to hear something about him behind her takeout coffee cup.

"Not since…" Mike paused, searching his memory. "Actually, I can't remember how long it's been since I've seen him here. About a week, I guess."

Rachel sighed, knowing that she was the cause of his absence. With a wave to Phoebe, she headed for the door.

Mike caught up with her before she stepped out. "Uh, Rachel – I know this may not be the best time, but I was wondering if you could work in a trip to the jewelry store with me." He cleared his throat with a nervous glance over his shoulder at Phoebe. "Soon."

"Yes, sure." Rachel wondered why she felt so unenthusiastic about the prospect. Usually, selecting jewelry was one of her favorite activities. That they were shopping a ring to change Phoebe's life should have only enhanced it.

But it didn't. She felt as numb as a deflated balloon left discarded on the floor after a party.

"How about during my lunch hour? We can hit the jewelry store and then grab a bite somewhere." She reached into her purse and removed her business card. Mike took it and put it in his pocket. 

"I'll call you around noon, then." He was almost dancing with anticipation.

"See you then," Rachel conjured up a convincing smile as she walked out into the damp gray morning.

__

I want Phoebe to be happy, I really do, she argued with herself. _Then why am I so miserable? _She wrestled with her thoughts as she pulled her jacket closer against the cold drizzle._ It seems like there's big buckets of happiness for everyone else, but not a drop for me._

Everyone else was moving forward, while she going back in time.

~*~*~

Never so far you can't call me back

I'm never more than a single kiss away…

~*~*~

Rachel was flipping through the mail on her desk when Kim appeared in her office door.

"Darling, so glad you're back at work. Out with a cold, I heard." There was nothing impolite about Kim's manner, but Rachel always felt as if her boss was insinuating something. She had a way of asking about the weather that made it sound like a dirty secret.

"A bad cold," Rachel answered with a tight smile on her face. "What can I do for you, Kim?"

"Oh, darling, it's not what you can do for me." A dramatic pause filled the air. "It's what I can do for _you_."

"Do tell," Rachel feigned interest, glancing at the clock on her desk and suppressing a sigh.

"You've heard of Oishii?"

"Of course," Rachel sensed that she was expected to act impressed and willingly complied. "It's only the hottest new Japanese restaurant in the city."

Kim was pleased by Rachel's reaction. "And guess who has reservations for 7:00 tonight?"

"_You_ do?" Rachel strained to keep a trickle of annoyance from revealing itself. _My life is falling apart and I have to play restaurant roulette with Kim._

"No darling," Kim said archly, smiling like a Cheshire cat. "_You_ do."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. What the hell was in those cigarettes Kim smoked? "If I do, this is the first I've heard about it."

"Cliff's nephew is seeing the hostess at Oishii. Lovely girl. Anyway, she pulled a few strings, and _voila_! Reservations for two."

"For you and Cliff?" Rachel asked, referring to Kim's fiancée.

"No, silly, for you and that handsome hunk you live with."

"I'm not getting what this has to do with me." Rachel wondered if the handsome hunk in question was Ross or Joey.

"It's simple. Cliff's mother chose today, of all days, to have foot surgery." Kim rolled her eyes theatrically. "Horrible old bag. Long story short, Cliff promised Mommie Dearest that we'd spend tonight at her apartment playing nursemaids."

"So…"

"So. You, dearie, can treat that sexy roomie of yours to dinner at Oishii with my reservations. Just tell the hostess that Kim sent you. Meanwhile, I'll be passing time in the wretched apartment of my future mother in law." Kim shuddered. "It always smells of cabbage and cats." 

Rachel tried to picture herself sharing an evening out with Ross. The idea of trying to generate conversation with him exhausted her. As long as Emma was around, there was always a certain degree of safety from arguments, and a welcome subject to discuss at length. But going to dinner alone presented too many chances to activate the launch sequence on the Ross & Rachel Fight Machine.

Trying to sound grateful and mollify Kim, she composed her face and counted to ten. "As much as Ross would enjoy some unagi – I'm pretty sure he won't be able to make it tonight." She fumbled for an excuse. "Faculty stuff, you know."

"Ross? Your baby's father?"

Rachel nodded.

"Him again? What about that hot little actor you were rooming with?"

"Long story," Rachel said quickly. "Really, Kim, it was so great of you to think of me, but…"

"Oh well, darling, Ross is quite delicious in his own right." Kim huffed impatiently. "You do understand that it takes _months_ to get a table there. What other plans do _you_ have for tonight?" 

"Now that you mention it, actually…" Rachel stammered, trapped. She drew a blank. There was no handy lie floating about in her mind. "Nothing, other than a standing appointment with my friend Chandler to watch 'The Bachelor' while eating cheesecake," she confessed.

"Oh, _honey_! Forget the cheesecake! Forget the Chandler! Have some _sushi_! Even if you have to go by yourself, you _must _take advantage of this." Kim dropped her voice. "I owe you big time, for that whole messy Kenny Copy Boy thing."

Rachel gave in. Kim didn't like to be opposed and considered her favors to be nothing less than royal endorsements. "Thank you. I'm sure something will work out." She smiled brightly, hoping that Kim didn't see the lack of real gratitude lurking behind her eyes.

Satisfied that she had wowed one of the little people with her A-list connections, Kim vanished as quickly as she had appeared in a cloud of perfume and linen.

__

I should tell Mike about this…he can take Phoebe. Her decision made, she turned her attention to her computer screen.

She wanted to call Joey, to tell him how much she missed him, to hear his voice. If only there was some way for the two of them to steal away and use those dinner reservations…but it wasn't worth the argument with Ross.

As the screen of her laptop went through the familiar motions of starting up, she stared at her phone, mentally dialing his number several times before deciding against it. The thought crossed her mind that there might be a reason for his silence other than heartache.

__

What if he doesn't **want** to talk to me? What if I've hurt him one time too many, and he's decided to play it safe?

She had never known him to go long without female companionship. Certainly he had no shortage of admirers. Doubt wrapped itself around her with the chill of an icy hand.

__

What if he finds someone else before I can go back to him? She saw it in her mind's eye - some beautiful young soap opera starlet, unencumbered with children or ex-husbands, draping herself around Joey in Central Perk. She winced, closing her eyes against the idea. Still, another unwanted possibility wafted through the dark corridor of her mind.

__

What if one week is all he and I will ever have?

Her heart sank as she considered it. Taking a deep breath, she shook it off. _Ok, Rachel,_ she commanded herself. _Get a hold on it. This isn't the place to delve into every Murphy's Law scenario. Save it for tonight when you'll at least have a cheesecake to console you._

After a surreptitious glance around her, Rachel started up a game of Tetris. Just then her assistant tapped on the door.

"Come in," Rachel called.

"These just came for you." Her assistant place a huge bouquet of "Get Well" balloons on her desk. Without being told, Rachel knew who had sent them.

She removed the card from its tiny envelope.

"Turn On Your Computer"

That was all it said. 

She minimized her game and connected to the internet. She checked her buddy list. Under "online" were ChanandolorBong, HarMonica, LuvsChihuahuas, and finally at the end of the list, DrakeRamorayMD.

She double clicked his name and typed a message.

****

FashionistaNY: I got the balloons.

He responded instantly.

****

DrakeRamorayMD: is that you?

Rachel leaned forward in her chair, more than a little surprised. 

****

FashionistaNY: Of course it's me, who else would it be?

__

Not the most warm greeting, she chided herself. He'd caught her off guard. Rachel hurriedly added LuvsChihuahuas to her invisible list, not wanting her mother to interrupt her chat with Joey.

Her fingers poised above the keyboard, she began typing her next message.

****

DrakeRamorayMD: is it ok to talk right now?

****

FashionistaNY: Yes, this is the perfect time to talk. **I'm sorry, I was just surprised to hear from you…you haven't called.**

****

DrakeRamorayMD: well, we didn't exactly leave things on a high note

****

FashionistaNY: I know – but 

Rachel stopped, trying to find the words to express her feelings. She shrugged and decided to keep it short and to the point.

****

DrakeRamorayMD: but what?

****

FashionistaNY: But, I miss you. That's all.

****

DrakeRamorayMD: you know how much I miss you, right?

****

FashionistaNY: I thought I did, but when you didn't call for a week, I thought maybe I was wrong and that you want to call it quits.

****

DrakeRamorayMD: are you crazy!?!? do you have any idea how many times I've dialed your number and hung up before I hit the talk button?

Rachel remembered her own battle of wills with the phone just a moment earlier.

****

FashionistaNY: **I've been doing the same thing. **

****

DrakeRamorayMD: I was scared to death of calling and pissing Ross off. I didn't want to make things worse. Then when you didn't call me, I thought maybe you didn't want to talk to me anymore or something, I don't know.

FashionistaNY: We had a communication breakdown.

DrakeRamorayMD: I figured it was safe to talk this way. Monica said you were back at work today so I thought, what the hell, I'll give it a shot and find out if you ever want to see me again.

Rachel sighed with relief. He still wanted to be with her.

****

FashionistaNY: I've been staring at DOOL every day like a stalker just to get a look at you, and you have to ask if I want to see you again?

****

DrakeRamorayMD: so…when can I see you?

Rachel stared at the screen, her mind racing over her options like a rat in a maze. She wasn't up to another confrontation with Ross and the results that might follow it. 

__

But don't I have the right to see who ever I want? Aren't I entitled to have a life, too?

She knew that she always gave in to whoever had the stronger personality. Her father had dominated her until she got together with Barry, who took over the job of telling her every move to make. Then she ran away from Barry and moved in with Monica, who called the shots on everything. When she was with Ross, he had been the mature one, the one who was strong and independent. He led and she followed.

Phoebe's voice rang in her ears, a conversation amongst the three girls from years ago.

__

"No, you're ok, Monica. You're just not as easy-going as Rachel. She's just more flexible and - and mellow. That's all. You know Rachel … she'll do whatever you want. You can just walk all over her."

Rachel was a pushover. Never had it been more evident than now.

Defiance stirred in her. _I'll be damned if I let everyone run over me this time. I'm not going to give Joey up to make them feel comfortable._

There had to be a way to get Ross out of the apartment for a while. He hadn't seen Charlie outside of school in over a week. A plan began to form in Rachel's mind, slowly at first like water trickling from a drain, then faster in one cohesive stream.

****

FashionistaNY: I have to go shopping with Mike soon, but I have a plan. I'm going to have to type fast. 

DrakeRamorayMD: can I do my plan laugh?

FashionistaNY: we'll do the plan laugh together later. Two questions – are you free tonight, and does Charlie like sushi?

~*~*~

__

And I feel so real

And it feels so right 

Something that you said

Turned me from the inside out

Running through my head

Something I had dreamed about

And I feel so real

And it feels so right

Something that you said

Turned me from the inside out

Lying in my bed

Whispering your name out loud

And I feel…

And I feel…

And it feels so right

Something that you said

Turned me from the inside out

~*~*~

"I promise, Ross, we'll be fine! Go have a good time!" Rachel looked nervously at her watch. Couldn't he just leave already?

"I don't know about this," he answered, nervously turning one of Emma's alphabet blocks over and over in his hands. Rachel noticed that it was the letter J.

__

It's a sign, she told herself. _He's finally going to get out of here and let me have five minutes alone with Joey._

"Are you sure you're up to this? That was a pretty bad cold you both had. Maybe I should cancel with Charlie – we can always let Monica and Chandler have the reservations."

Rachel tried to hide her urgency to speed him on his way. "Yeah, like Chandler's going to pass up 'The Bachelor' and 'Extreme Makeover' for sushi." 

He scowled and nodded reluctantly.

"We've spent every night for a week cooped up in this apartment, counting Emma's sneezes and watching the Discovery channel. If you don't spend some time with Charlie, she's going to forget what you look like." _And Joey's going to forget what I look like,_ she added to herself.

"You're right - she's been very understanding but I think she's getting tired of nothing but phone calls and having lunch together between classes."

"Then go, go! Get on out there, Tiger! Spend some time with your woman!"

__

Please, she prayed,_ please let him leave._

"I think I will," Ross finally agreed.

She stifled a sigh of relief.

"You have my pager number and you'll keep your cell phone with you at all times, right? And you'll call me if _anything_ happens?" He was putting on his jacket. "I'm not sure that she's completely over the cold yet."

"Yes, I promise."

He bent over the playpen. "Bye Emma, bye-bye Emma-wemma-ding-dong. Daddy woves you!"

Rachel held her breath. He was almost out the door.

"And you'll call me if - " he questioned.

"Yes! I swear! Now go!" 

He closed the door. She ran to watch through the peephole. He was already out of sight.

__

Thank God. It was time to put the plan into action. Rachel quickly pulled her cell phone from her purse, pressing the speed dial code for Monica.

Chandler answered on the third ring.

"Hello?

"Hey, it's me."

"Hey Rach, we still on for cheesecake tonight?" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "It's less dry and mealy than usual."

"I'm afraid that I'm gonna have to take a raincheck. I need to talk to Monica real quick."

"Just a sec." She heard him calling Monica over the sound of the vacuum.

"Hey Rach, what's up?" Monica's voice came though the line.

"Oh nothing, nothing, it's just – could you watch Emma for an hour or so?"

"Why? Where's Ross?"

"Out with Charlie. I really need to get out of this apartment for a little while. I haven't been anywhere else except work since I moved in here."

"Uh-huh. You're going to see Joey, aren't you?"

"Maybe…would it be so wrong if I did?"

She could almost hear Monica debating with herself.

"Does Ross know?"

"Does Ross have to know _everything_ about my personal life?"

Monica sighed. "I don't want to get between you and my brother."

Rachel saw her plans collapsing. She suspected that this might be the night that Mike proposed to Phoebe – she'd help him purchase the ring during her lunch hour and wasn't about to interrupt them. Molly had left for the weekend to go visit her parents. There was no one left to watch Emma, and Rachel wasn't about to bring her daughter along to see Joey, knowing how Ross would react if he found out.

"Monica – please? I need to see him so much."

Monica hesitated. "I just don't know about this."

"Look, she's doing so much better, you won't catch anything from her - she'll probably fall asleep the minute I drop her off. And you can call my cell if anything goes wrong. I'll just be downstairs in the coffee house!" She could sense Monica relenting.

"I guess it's ok, as long as you stay in the building and Ross doesn't find out that I had anything to do with this."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You won't regret this, I promise."

"I better not," Monica warned.

She hung up before Monica could change her mind. Giddy with excitement, she pressed the speed dial for Joey.

He answered on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, sweetie," she replied, going weak in the knees at the sound of his voice. "All systems are go. Meet me in ten minutes."

"It worked?" He was surprised.

"It worked. He's gone."

"I'll be there." She could hear his smile over the phone.

"See you in ten."

She hung up the phone and ran to her closet, pulling out the bag she'd packed for Emma hours ago before going back to the living room and lifting Emma out of her playpen.

"I think that's everything," she said to her daughter, taking a final look around the apartment. She had her purse, Emma's bag, and Emma herself. Assured that she hadn't forgotten anything, she pushed the stroller out into the hall and locked the door behind her. It was beginning to thunder outside.

__

Who's the pushover now, she asked herself with a rush of triumph.

In her excitement, she failed to notice that her cell phone was still on the coffee table.

****

A/N: To be continued….soon!


	10. Every Little Thing She Does

****

Past & Present

Chapter 8: Every Little Thing She Does

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters. I'd like to work out some sort of rental agreement for Joey, though!

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: **The longest chapter ever! **I told you guys I would have this finished fast, and here it is, less than twenty-four hours after the last chapter!

I am doing a few things that are risky, to say the least, with this chapter. I know that this isn't going to be everyone's cup of tea, but please, be patient with me while I develop a few things. Let me just say this…if Joey can realize his feelings for Rachel by her simply showing him her "end of the night move", anything can happen, and fast.

As for Phoebe's dance, picture what she did when she was trying to seduce Chandler in "TOW Where Everyone Finds Out". 

The song used in this chapter is by Sting, of course.

Please read and review – feedback on this chapter is more important than in any other I've written. Email me, whatever – just let me know what you think!

See my bio section for more thoughts on this topic. Thanks!  


~*~*~

Rachel let herself into Monica's apartment. A cheesecake was already sliced attractively on the table. Monica sat on the couch, crochet hook in hand and the beginnings of a yellow baby sized sweater on her lap. Chandler was in the big chair, yarn wound around his hands.

"Don't tell me you're abandoning reality TV overload," he said.

"She's late for a very important date," Monica answered dryly, setting her yarn aside to hold her niece. 

"And look," Chandler made a sweeping gesture toward the new white wicker bassinet beside him. "We even have a place to put Emma!"

"Oh, you guys!" Rachel rushed over to examine the bassinet, which was filled with soft yellow bedding. "When did you guys get this? It's so cute!"

"Our first piece of baby furniture," Monica said with a smile. "And _you _get to break it in," she said to Emma, planting a kiss on the baby's cheek.

"I can't thank you guys enough," Rachel began. 

Monica held up a hand. "Don't thank me – just keep us out of trouble with Ross."

~*~*~

He was waiting when she stepped into the coffee house. The moment she saw him, she shed the strain and loneliness of the past week like an extra skin. She sighed into his arms without a word, feeling as if she could finally breathe again after countless hours under water.

"You wouldn't believe how much I've missed this." 

"Me too," she murmured with contentment. For the moment, her every wish was fulfilled.

He moved away to look at her, studying her face with suspicion. "You look tired."

"I _am_ tired," she said as she took his arm and led him to the sofa. "But Emma and I are both over our colds now."

"Yeah, but you don't look like you're sick-tired. You look sad-tired."

"Well obviously, living with Ross is not on my list of great ways to find happiness." Concern filled his dark eyes, causing her to change the subject. "How _you_ doin'?" she asked playfully.

"Ooh, good line. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were hitting on me." 

__

I can still get him to smile. All is not lost, she thought, satisfied_. _She looked around the room, which was rapidly filling up with customers.

"Let's go somewhere else. I can't stay long – maybe an hour – but we need some privacy."

"You wanna go to my place, or…" His voice trailed off. "_My_ place. A week ago, it was _our_ place."

"Let's go up to the roof," she suggested. _No sad memories there, and no interruptions._

"You sure? It's kinda cold tonight and you've been sick…."

"It stopped raining, and you've got an umbrella in case it starts again." She stood up and tugged on his hand. "I'll be fine. I've got you to keep me warm."

~*~*~

"I think his theories regarding radio carbon dating are potentially revolutionary." Charlie took a sip of her green tea before continuing. "I plan to take several pages of notes at this lecture." She fixed her level gaze on Ross across the table. "I may even learn shorthand for it."

He didn't laugh. He didn't even get the joke, because he wasn't listening.

"I'm almost positive he's going to show slides of monkey orgies at some point during the presentation." Proving that she'd lost any shred of his attention some time ago, Ross gave a perfunctory nod before picking up his cell phone and dialing Rachel's number again. 

She watched his face color with frustration as the phone rang nine times and transferred to Rachel's voice mail. He slammed the phone back down on the table and checked his pager for the one hundredth time.

"You've barely touched your unagi," Charlie observed. "And all of this romantic atmosphere is going completely to waste."

"It's not _wasted_," he blustered. "We've got the tiny table, the dim lighting with these rice paper thingies – "

"It's wasted because I might as well be here alone. You've dialed Rachel's number no less than thirty times in thirty minutes. I don't know what's on your mind tonight, but it's clearly not me."

"You're right, you're right…I'm just worried about Emma, you know? That something happened and Rachel is at the emergency room with her…"

"Ross, she had a _cold_. A common cold. She hardly qualifies for emergency medical intervention."

"Then where are they?" He was getting explosive.

The waitress picked that moment to stop by with more tea. Charlie calmly enjoyed her ebi as Ross stared out the window. She had known he had some unresolved issues, but the amount of intensity it wrought in him surprised her.

"Do you want to attend the lecture with me?" She asked more to find out if he were actually following the conversation than out of any real expectation of him saying yes. 

Ross acted as if he hadn't heard her. "I think - I think I'll just call Monica – she'll know what's going on." 

Charlie slowly and deliberately folded her napkin and placed it on the table. "Ross, you're a great guy, and I think there could have been – something – here. I wish you well." She stood up and pushed her chair back in. 

"Call me when you finally decide to get over Rachel." She walked toward the door with regal poise and didn't look back.

He jumped out of his chair. "Charlie, wait! Charlie!" The other customers turned to stare as the hostess glared at him contemptuously.

Ross sat down at the table, realizing what he'd done. Charlie was out of his life, and he had no one to blame but himself.

He paid the check and hailed a cab, cursing himself for ruining another relationship.

~*~*~

"I never knew two months could be so long," Joey said as he wrapped his jacket tightly around Rachel, shielding her from the wind. 

"I never knew a week could be so short, until we spent one together," she answered, leaning back against him so she could gaze up at the stars. A cold breeze blew across them. "We're a long way from Barbados," she observed. _But the rain keeps on falling,_ she noted to herself.

They were quiet for a few minutes, enjoying the way they could be together without constant chatter to fill the gaps between sentences. 

A falling star made a stunning appearance against the night sky, flashing like a diamond amidst the ambient light of New York City.

"Make a wish!" Joey pointed at the trail the star had made in its descent.

__

Let us always be together. She wished with every ounce of faith she could summon.

A wave of unexpected sadness crashed over her at that moment with the force of a hurricane. She could wish on every star in the sky and it didn't change a damn thing. There were too many forces working against them. It would take more than a wish to pave the way for their relationship. It would take a miracle.

She started to cry without reason or warning. Crying because every second they spent together was stolen time, borrowed time that could end at a moment's notice. Because what had been so promising was now tinged with tears and longing. She was crying for a foolish wish.

"What's wrong?" Joey was alarmed. She didn't respond.

"Rachel," he shook her slightly. "What the hell is happening? Answer me."

"God, Joey, what have we done?" Tears spilled out faster than she could brush them away.

"We sent Ross out for some eel and came up here to be alone?" He was baffled.

"No, I mean – what have we done to our lives? We used to be so happy together…we always had such a good time, no matter what we were doing. And now – look at us, hiding on a rooftop. It's like we made a wrong turn somewhere." She released a shaky sigh. "It's all…messed up."

His face fell. "It's all messed up now because you're my girlfriend? Us getting together messed up our lives?"

"It messed up any chance we have to _ever_ be happy again." She rummaged through her purse for a tissue. 

"I'm happy right now," he protested. "Any time I'm with you, I'm happy."

"Yeah, we're happy right now because we're escaping from the real world." Rachel dabbed her eyes with her tissue. "How happy are either of us going to be when we have to go back to reality without each other?"

"We can survive two months, then everything will be the way it was before."

Rachel looked into his eyes, seeing his simple belief in the eventual outcome of their relationship. "Joey – we can _never_ go back to the way it was before."

He shook his head. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying – you and me as _friends_? After last week? I don't think so. We can never _be 'just friends'_ again. We'll both _always_ want more."

"I didn't mean we'd go back to being just friends -"

She continued, pain infusing every word. "Will you ever be able look at me without remembering what it was like the first time you kissed me in Barbados? Or what it was like to sleep in the same bed and wake up beside each other?" 

He shook his head mutely. 

"Me either," she answered. 

"Where is all this coming from?" He was helpless before this torrent of agony.

"Because –" she paused, frustrated. "Because this was _supposed_ to be happy, but every time we're together, we're going to be miserable, counting the minutes until it ends."

"But someday, it won't have to end anymore. You'll get your own place and we can be together all the time."

"Anything could happen between now and then. Suppose things don't work out for us to be anything _but _friends? What if one week is all we're ever going to have?"

"We've got all the time in the world," he pleaded. "So maybe you're right and we can't go back…but we can go forward, right?"

"We're _not_ going forward." She stood up and leaned over the enclosure to look down at the world below. "We're stuck. And until something changes, when we're together, the clock will be always be ticking in the background." The guilt-ridden thought that had been brewing below the surface pushed itself to the top and demanded her attention.

"You've got to take that movie role," she said abruptly.

He rolled his eyes and huffed impatiently. "Are we going to go over that again?"

"Joey, you can't turn down the chance of a lifetime for me. I won't let you."

"Look, there's no guarantee I'd get the part. Even if I did, I'm not leaving you right now."

"At least go read for it. Give yourself that much of a chance."

A sound interrupted her, startling them. A hand reached through the barely open door, picking up the pipe that served as a doorstop and pulled it inside. 

Rachel clutched Joey in fear. He held the umbrella up like a weapon.

The door swung open, and Ross stepped out onto the roof.

"What the hell are you doing up here?" he exclaimed.

"What the hell are _you_ doing up here?" Rachel stepped in front of Joey as if to protect him from Ross' wrath.

"Are you _insane_? You took a sick baby out in _this_ weather?" His eyes darted back and forth from Rachel to Joey. "Joey, go home. This is between Rachel and me."

Joey bristled. "If you have a problem with me, Ross, just step up and say so. Don't take it out on a woman, for God's sake."

Ross ignored him, taking an object out of his pocket and tossing it to Rachel. Joey caught it deftly and handed it to her.

"Incidentally, nice touch, leaving your cell phone at home so I'd go frantic with worry and ruin my date." Hostility emanated from him, charging the air around the three of them.

Rachel was momentarily dumbfounded. "I left my phone at home? Oh my God – Ross, it was an oversight – I would _never_ do something like that intentionally." Anger flickered beneath her apology. "_Incidentally_, thanks for ruining _my_ date."

"By the way, your daughter is fine – not that you've checked on her since you unloaded her on my sister, you know the one with the high-risk pregnancy?"

Rachel closed her eyes against the scene before her. "Monica is going to kill me," she whispered to Joey.

"Come on," Joey answered, taking her hand. "Let's go home. You'll see him tomorrow when he's had time to cool off." 

"Ross –" she begged him silently to relent.

"I trusted you, and this is what you do." He looked away from her, trying to regain his self-control. "You know, it's not so much that you lied to me, or that you did all this for _him_ –" He stopped to look at Joey with a mixture of regret and resentment. "It's that you showed _no_ concern for Emma's well-being, or Monica's. You didn't care how scared I'd be when I couldn't find you."

He turned and went to the door. "I'll be at Monica's." He walked away, leaving the door propped open with the pipe.

"I have to go with him," Rachel said, pulling her hand away from Joey's. "Try to understand…"

"I know," he stepped back, his face an emotionless mask. "Go."

She felt his eyes burning through her as she disappeared into the night, leaving his arms empty and his life a void.

~*~*~

"Emma isn't going anywhere," Monica said as she peered down into the bassinet. "This girl is staying right here with her Auntie Monica tonight."

Rachel stood beside Ross in the spare room of Monica's apartment, anger coursing back and forth between them like a current. Emma lay peacefully asleep.

"You don't wake a sleeping baby, especially one who's been sick," Monica continued. "She needs to rest. If you wake her up now, she'll be up all night." She beamed happily at her niece. "Besides, Chandler and I need the practice."

"Well, you _do_ have a baby bag right here with everything she needs," Ross said, gesturing to the bag Rachel had brought along on her ill-fated tryst.

"I know," Monica replied. "It's perfect. Please, Ross - let her stay?"

"You're sure you're not too tired? You need your rest too," Ross answered.

"Yes, Ross is the master of considering other people's feelings," Rachel snapped. "Your comfort is his first concern."

Monica raised her eyebrows, backing away. "Ok – whatever went on with the two of you tonight, keep it away from the baby."

Rachel turned on her heel and stomped out.

~*~*~

Joey dialed the number from memory, feeling a small amount of comfort when he heard his mother's voice answering.

"Mom? It's me…Yeah, I know…Listen, can I crash over there tonight? It's a long story. I just need to get out of here and clear my head. Yeah, it's about Rachel – Mom? Calm down, ok? I'll explain when I get there."

He hung up with his mother still midstream in an outpouring of questions. He had his overnight bag packed and waiting beside him. He locked up and slid a note under Chandler's door that said simply: "Gone to Queens for the night, be back tomorrow." He struggled to hold in the searing sense of loss he was feeling until he was safely ensconced in the darkness of a cab.

Loving Rachel meant losing her…over and over again.

~*~*~

Rachel threw her overnight bag on to the bed and unzipped with an urgency that almost tore it. Reaching into her drawer she pulled out a pair of clean and freshly folded pajamas, tossing them into the bag. 

__

What else, she asked herself, forcing her frenzied mind to think rationally_. Toothbrush, makeup bag._

Running to the bathroom, she grabbed her toothbrush from the holder. She tossed it into Emma's bag along with everything else. She snatched her makeup bag from her dresser and tried to force it into the bag on top of her pajamas but the bag was already overfilled and refused to zip. 

__

Dammit, she raged with frustration. _It'll just have to stay unzipped._

She stormed out of her room, pausing only briefly to address Ross as he sat alone in the dimly lit living room. 

"I'm going to spend the night at Joey's, if he'll even _have_ me after tonight." She stopped, waiting for him to answer. His anger had faltered, leaving him spiritless and desolate.

"I'll bring Emma back in the morning, and we'll continue with this torture game you invented for us."

"Fine, go." Ross was drained of all emotion. "I've lost Charlie, I've lost you, and now I'm going to lose Emma. My Nana always said things happen in threes." He waved his hand weakly. "Say hi to Joey for me – I've probably lost him, too."

"Charlie? You broke up with Charlie?" Rachel asked in disbelief. "What the – nevermind." She adjusted her bag over her shoulder. "Nothing you do could surprise me anymore." She strode to the door.

"This isn't over," Ross said with a studied calm that never failed to unnerve her.

"That's where you're wrong." She turned the knob and pulled the door open. "This was over a long time ago."

The sound of the door slamming echoed into the hallway like a gunshot.

~*~*~

Ross didn't know how long he'd been sitting along in the dark when someone pushed open his door. He looked up, expecting to see Rachel. Instead, Phoebe's face appeared.

"Anyone home?"

"Yeah, come in," Ross said eagerly, a sense of calm flooding him at the sight of her. Phoebe took off her coat and dropped it on the couch before sitting down on the floor beside the coffee table. "I was just…" he tried for a plausible story and failed. "Counting my miseries," he concluded.

"Huh. It's a good night for that," she said absently.

"Where's Mike?" he asked, hoping the man he considered the most boring human being on earth wasn't about to join them. 

"Oh, I don't know, maybe you could ask his ex-wife?" She snorted sarcastically and rolled her eyes.

"His ex-wife?" Ross' face was incredulous. "What does she have to do with it?"

"Mind if I have a drink?" she asked.

"Uh, sure…" He stood up and put his hands on his hips, lost in thought. "I think Rachel has a bottle of Midori somewhere…" He was about to head for the kitchen when Phoebe reached into her oversized vintage tapestry bag and produced a huge bottle of Jose Cuervo Tequila.

"I can't believe you carry that around with you." He eyed the massive bottle with a mixture of discomfort and awe.

"What? It was my grandmother's," she answered, gesturing to her bag. "I don't make fun of _your_ bags."

Ross ignored the bag comment. "I'll go get you a glass."

Phoebe removed the cap from the bottle and turned it up for a long drink. "Who needs a glass? What are you, a girl?" She handed the bottle to him. "You look like you could use this as much as I can."

Ross took the bottle gingerly. One whiff of the contents convinced him to find Rachel's Midori.

"I'll be right back." He went into the kitchen and opened the cupboard that was dedicated to Rachel's snacks. He sorted through her stash of chips, cookies, Cheese Nips, and Pop Tarts. _She certainly acquired a junk food habit living with Joey_, he noted to himself, finding the bottle of melon flavored liqueur secreted away in the back. "Bingo," he said with satisfaction. He grabbed a shot glass from another cabinet, suddenly happy. A smile played across his features as he walked back into his living room and saw Phoebe's long form stretched out across the floor, tequila bottle in hand. He knew he was finally with the one person he could count on to listen without judgement.

"You first," he said, clinking his shot glass against her bottle. "Cheers."

"Ok. I had this feeling – psychic vibe, if you will – that tonight was _the night_."

"Proposal night?" 

"Right. So I got dressed to the nines –"

"You look…amazing," Ross interrupted, taking in her form fitting dress, high-heeled boots, and exotic jewelry for the first time.

"Of course," Phoebe answered with a knowing smile. "Anyway…we ordered in, and I had the whole thing going – candles, incense, a CD with the mating calls of whales playing in the background…"

"Essential for romance," he observed wryly.

"There we were, eating dinner, waiting for the big moment to arrive when the phone rings. It was _her_."

"And?"

"And…apparently, the parakeet they had when they were married keeled over dead tonight. She was in hysterics and needed Mike to – I don't know, come over and open a bottle of Valium for her or something." She took a swig of her Tequila before continuing. "Birds _hate_ me!"

Ross remembered the pigeon that attacked her and caused them to lose their lottery tickets, and couldn't disagree. "What happened next?"

"He rushed off like some kind of – Valium opening ex-husband person." She stared morosely down into her bottle. "I wonder sometimes if he still has feelings for her. He's just so – _angry_ over the whole thing, so _bitter_…kind of how you are about Rachel."

Ross held up a hand defensively. "I do _not_ have feelings for Rachel."

"Um, yeah, ok. Tell that to someone who hasn't spent ten years watching this soap opera."

"She is the mother of my child." He was emphatic. "That is _all_." He took a slow sip of Midori, considering Phoebe's accusation. "Not that it would matter if I _did_ have feelings for her, because she's probably in bed with Joey even as we speak."

"How did _that_ happen? I thought you had her on a pretty short leash." She chuckled at her own humor.

"It's not a leash, it's a custody arrangement."

"You mean jealousy arrangement?"

"You're starting to sound like Charlie," he commented as he poured himself another round. 

"Charlie. Where _is_ that hot piece of paleontologist these days?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. She broke up with me tonight."

Phoebe gasped. "I'm so sorry – I've been babbling away about Mike, and didn't even ask what was bothering you. What happened?" She pulled herself up to a sitting position and focused her eyes on him.

"Rachel talked me into taking Charlie out to dinner at this Japanese restaurant, and I kept calling to check on Emma…I called the apartment line, and Rachel didn't answer…so I tried her cell phone over and over." He shook his head ruefully, remembering. "Little did I know that she had arranged a secret rendezvous with Joey, and forget to bring along her cell phone."

"Oh my God," Phoebe said in horror. "You went all 'Red Ross' in front of Charlie, didn't you?"

"Little bit, yeah," he admitted, realizing for the first time how his behavior must have appeared to Charlie.

"You freaked out, she put two and two together and got 'Ross still loves Rachel', and dumped your ass." 

"In so many words." He shrugged. "Long story short, I found Emma with Monica, and Rachel with Joey. Chaos ensued…"

"Red Ross made an encore appearance for Rachel and Joey, driving them further into each other's arms." Phoebe observed. "You'll notice that alcohol increases my powers."

"You're right, you know." He replayed the scene with Rachel and Joey in his mind, seeing the way they constantly jumped to defend each other. "The harder I push them apart, the closer they get."

"Ah, my sweet," Phoebe reached up and patted Ross' cheek. "I'm always right. It's a law of nature…when you try to keep two people apart, you only make the attraction stronger." He nodded affirmatively. "So where are the fair damsel and child tonight?"

"Rachel came back here, furious with me. She packed her overnight bag and went to Joey, who I'm _sure_ was all too happy to provide her with a place to spend the night. And Emma was asleep, so we left her with Monica." 

"And you?"

"And me…I was just sitting here in the dark, wondering who I'm going to lose next." He raised his glass in tribute to her. "Then _you_ showed up."

"As Chandler would say, could we _be_ any more depressing?" Phoebe glanced over to the stereo. "Let's have some music."

Ross walked over to his CD collection. "I don't have any whale mating sounds…what else might interest you?"

"Oh! Oh – Sting!" She bubbled over with excitement. "Remember that concert?"

"Rooossss caaaan," he screeched to the tune of "Roxanne" as he placed a CD inside the player. A song filled the room.

__

Though I've tried before  
To tell her  
Of the feelings   
I have for her   
In my heart  
Every time that   
I come near her  
I just lose my nerve  
As I've done from the start

"That's more like it," she said as she began an undulating dance toward him. He attempted to imitate her movements unsuccessfully, so he began bobbing his head robotically to the beat instead.

__

Every little thing  
She does is magic  
Everything she do   
Just turns me on  
Even though my life   
Before was tragic  
Now I know my love   
For her goes on

She shimmied toward him and he countered with a few moves from "the routine", noticing against his will how incredibly sexy she was despite her eccentric dancing. _Or maybe because of it,_ he thought. _That's what makes her so alluring…everything she does is unique._

__

Do I have to tell the story  
Of a thousand rainy days   
Since we first met  
It's a big enough umbrella  
But it's always me   
That ends up getting wet

"How drunk _are_ we?" he asked, forcing his mind to focus on something other than the way her long blonde hair swirled around as she danced.

"Not drunk enough," she retorted, returning to the couch and picking up her bottle. He joined her and resumed his glass of Midori.

She fumbled through her bag and retrieved her cell phone. "I'm just going to check my messages…maybe he called." She dialed in and listened patiently before turning the phone off angrily and tossing it back into her bag.

"Nothing," she told him.

"Neither of us are having especially good luck with cell phones tonight."

She turned up her bottle again before answering. "Cell phone karma…I'll have to investigate that."

"How do you always do this?" he asked in wonder.

"What?"

"This…this _thing_ you do – always putting a good spin on things for me, always showing me the bright side…"

"When you're living in a box and mugging comic book nerds for food money, you either find the bright side or die trying."

"That's just it, though. If anyone should be angry and have a grudge against the world, it's you…but you don't." He took another sip of his drink, listening to some unguarded, truthful part of himself speaking. "Why do you think I always go to you, no matter what happens? I was sitting here alone in the dark, wallowing in my misery, wishing that I could talk to you about it."

"That's the booze talking," she said modestly.

"It's the truth talking," he answered, his voice firm. _The booze just set it free_, he added to himself.

"Maybe you should tell that to Mike, since he obviously has lingering attachments for the pill popping bird lover." She looked away and sighed painfully.

"If Mike can't see everything that you are…" His hand wandered to her shoulder, lifting a lock of her silky blonde hair gently and studying it as if for the first time. "If he can't appreciate how astonishingly, unbelievably wonderful _you_ are – he deserves the Valium addict."

"The same goes for Charlie," she answered insistently. "You are sweet,

kind…smart…handsome…and someday, the right woman is going to see everything that I see in you." Her words were beginning to slur slightly. "Why do you think I came here tonight? I could have gone to Monica…but I didn't. I came here…and you know I wasn't looking for Rachel."

Sting's voice reverberated through the room.

I resolved to call her up   
A thousand times a day  
And ask her if   
She'll marry me  
In some old fashioned way  
But my silent fears  
Have gripped me  
Long before I reach the phone  
Long before my tongue   
Has tripped me  
Must I always be alone? 

Ross stared into her eyes, noticing the flecks of color that starred it like gold dust. In a rush of longing, he remembered every sensation of the kiss they'd shared on the pool table years ago. He knew he was drunk. He knew he was angry over Rachel and Charlie. But, more than anything else, he knew that he couldn't live one more minute without experiencing that kiss again.

Phoebe read his intentions the instant that they registered in his eyes. They lunged for each other, lips meeting in raw, clamoring need. Lust and insatiable want of her overwhelmed him. He immediately moved for the zipper on her dress.

She pushed him away roughly and moved a few inches down the couch. "That did _not_ just happen."

"No, you're absolutely right. That didn't happen." He silently berated himself, wondering how he could have read her so wrong. _I thought she wanted it too. Say something,_ he commanded himself.

There was no sound other than Sting's voice and their unsettled breathing. Ross tried valiantly to think of something to break the tension, anything to make things right and not lose her, his most trusted confidant.

"It didn't happen," Phoebe repeated as if she were trying to convince herself.

"It never happened," he responded, turning his face away in shame.

"But it's about to happen again," she said as she took his face in her hands and gave him a kiss that took his breath away.

She pushed him back on the couch and arranged herself on top of him as he kissed her feverishly, his hands returning to her zipper. He no longer cared about what had happened earlier that evening with the other women in his life. In fact, he couldn't remember why it seemed important in the first place.

"Phoebe," he moaned. "I want you so much…"

Something snapped her out of it, bringing her back to her normal realm of thinking. She got up rapidly and reached around to fix her zipper. 

"This is wrong," she said in the decisive tone he knew so well. "I love Mike, you love –"

"I do _not_ love Rachel!" he protested.

"But I do," she answered. "I can never, ever do this to her. Look at what's happened because of Joey's feelings for her. I'm not going to do that to her over you."

"This is different," he said weakly, knowing that it wasn't different at all.

"I love Mike," she reiterated. "He may not be my favorite person at the moment, but I love him…and you're my friend. Rachel is my friend. This was a mistake and we are _never_ going to repeat it."

She walked past him to get her bag, her perfume floating across him like a sensual breeze, stirring his raging desire for her to the boiling point.

"I'm sorry, Ross." Her voice was choked. "Goodbye." She closed the door behind her, leaving him alone in a hormonal daze.

He rushed to the door to follow her out, but the minute his hand reached the doorknob, he knew that nothing he said would change her mind. His skin burned where she'd touched him. The taste of her kiss was a tantalizing reminder on his lips as her scent clung to his shirt.

He leaned his back against the door, his knees sinking under him.

In an instant, his beloved friend had become the object of an unquenchable yearning. He had crossed all the lines of propriety, broken all bounds of decency. He had violated the sanctity of their friendship. He had crossed the line.

And all he could think of was how much he wanted more.

It was hideously inappropriate. It was exactly like…

"Oh my God," he said aloud to himself. "I've turned into Joey."

~*~*~

"No good can come from having sex with Ross. No good can come from having sex with Ross." Phoebe repeated the words to herself like a drunken mantra as she walked back to her apartment, her boots clicking away on the pavement beneath her.

"No good can come from having sex with Ross."

__

Now if I can make myself believe that, she thought in a burst of clarity.

"No good can come from having sex with Ross."

~*~*~

7:00 A.M. on a Saturday morning. Ross stared at the clock beside his bed in disbelief. He had tossed and turned all night before falling into a fitful sleep filled with heat-soaked dreams of Phoebe.

He dragged himself from his bed and staggered to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face before stumbling to the kitchen and turning on the coffee pot. His head throbbed from alcohol and sleep deprivation.

__

Do not think of Phoebe, he ordered himself. _Do not think of Phoebe._

He stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room, seeing the Tequila bottle she'd left behind on his coffee table.

__

Who am I kidding? I can't think of anything else.

He was filled with a conflicting set of responses. One to find this strangely enticing new Phoebe and throw her down on the nearest piece of furniture; the other to find the old Phoebe - the one he kept his secrets and listened to all of his troubles. He wanted nothing more than to pour his heart out to her about these insane feelings that thundered through him like a storm surge.

The problem was that she was both the cause and the solution.

~*~*~

Joey let himself into his apartment quietly, a blue-on-white shopping bag in his hand.

He had stopped to do some food shopping on the way back from Queens. A night at his parent's house had brought him no relief. He had thought of Rachel's dire predictions nonstop, of her seeming belief that they were doomed to spend their lives apart.

The trip to the grocery store had only added to his suffering. Usually his cart was divided into three sections: Rachel food, Emma food, and Joey food. But today, he had passed up the yogurt, tortilla chips, fat free cookies and orange juice that he always got for Rachel. His heart was heavy as he avoided the baby food isle completely. Even the display of graham crackers brought back painful memories. He never failed to pick up a box for Emma to snack on.

His bag contained only the basic staples of "Joey food" – potato chips, beer, sandwich items, and Frosted Flakes. It only made him miss her more.

He had never felt so alone.

As he put away his purchases, he hit the button on his answering machine to play his messages.

One from his mother, asking him to check in with her when he got home. One from Phoebe, sounding raspy and drained.

"Just wondering how you're doing…I heard about last night…call me." _Hangover,_ he observed.

He was getting down his cereal bowl when the unmistakable voice of his agent blared through the speaker of the answering machine.

"Hey Joey. Since you passed up that movie role like an idiot, I came up with another idea to get you some publicity. I hired a girl to make you one of those dot com things, you know - that world wide web stuff."

Joey stopped to listen, intrigued. _My own website – cool!_

"Stop what you're doing and write this down," Estelle's recorded voice continued. Joey grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper from the drawer. "I set up a meeting for you this morning at 8:00 sharp at that coffee joint you live in. She needs to go over some stuff with you for the site." Joey jotted down the information. "Listen to me, Tribbiani – don't be late, don't screw this up, and _don't sleep with her!_"

Joey rolled his eyes at the machine. Like there was any chance of that happening…he hadn't so much as glanced at another woman since Barbados. The only way he got through his scenes with the actress playing "Olivia" was to pretend she was Rachel.

His own personal website. The more he thought about it, the more he liked it.

He glanced at his watch. 7:45.

"Oh my God," he exclaimed to himself. "I gotta run!" He took off for the coffee house to meet his web designer.

~*~*~

Rachel poured a cup of coffee with grim satisfaction. She took a sip, smiling appreciatively. _There's one skill I learned the hard way,_ she thought with the same pride she always felt when she remembered her waitressing days. _Whatever else goes wrong, I can always make the perfect pot of coffee._

She had awoken to the sounds of Emma stirring nearby in the bassinet. She'd spent the mostly sleepless night on Monica's couch, reeling with disappointment that Joey had left before she got there.

After getting Emma's breakfast from the baby bag, she took a shower in Monica's bathroom and slipped back into the Juicy Couture track suit she'd changed into last night before leaving Ross' apartment. After pushing her hair back into a ponytail and putting on minimal makeup, she'd made coffee and tried to make plans.

Monica, clad in pajamas, padded quietly out into the living room. "Mmm, Rachel coffee," she said with a drowsy smile. "I forgot how much I like that smell in the morning."

"Let me get you a cup," Rachel offered, standing up and going to the hooks that held Monica's cups. 

"Actually, I'm trying to give it up…it's not the best thing for the baby."

"What can I get for you? Some juice?"

"Nah, I'll just get myself a glass of milk." 

"No, no, no. You sit down and let me take care of you." Rachel would never forget how she felt in the mornings during her first trimester. She poured a tall glass of milk and set it before Monica on the table.

As usual, Monica wasted no time on small talk, but delved right in to the crux of the matter. "What are you and Ross and Joey going to do about this mess?" She took a coaster from their holder and put it under her glass. "This can't go on much longer. You're all three going crazy."

"Well, actually, I have a plan. Sort of."

"A sort of plan?" Monica took a tiny sip of her milk. "Sort of plans don't cut it, Rach. You need a _real_ plan." She cleared her throat nervously. "Chandler and I were talking last night after we went to bed, and we have a solution for you."

Rachel sat back in her chair, curiosity stamped all over her face.

"We know that you'll have your own place in seven weeks when Mrs. Braverman moves out. But until then…" Monica reached across the table and put her hand over Rachel's. "Why don't you and Emma move back in here with us? Chandler can get the extra bed out of storage…it will be just like old times…"

Rachel was moved almost to tears by her friend's generosity. "It means _so_ much to me for you to do this…but…this is _your_ special time." 

Monica opened her mouth to speak but Rachel silenced her with a hand. "You've waited _so_ long for this – it's your turn. Emma and I need to be on our own."

"On your own? What do you mean?"

Rachel shrugged. "I left Long Island to find some independence. Since then, I've lived with you, with Phoebe, with Joey, and with Ross – someone always had my back. It's time for me to face the world on my own."

"This means you're definitely _not_ going to live with Ross anymore?"

Rachel nodded. "If I can sleep on your couch for another night or two…"

"Of course," Monica answered.

"I'm going to pick up a paper today and check the ads – somewhere in this city has _got_ to be a sane person who's not too creepy and needs a roommate for the next seven weeks."

"You don't have to do this," Monica said. "You are always, always welcome here."

"I _need _to do this." Rachel stood up and took her purse from the hanger. "I'm going to run down to the newsstand and pick up a paper. Can I bring you anything?"

"Well, now that you mention it," Monica peered into her milk, "A blueberry muffin would taste really good with this."

"One blueberry muffin, coming up." Rachel smiled and opened the door.

"Two," Monica called after her. "No, three!"

~*~*~

Joey thanked Gunther for the coffee and muffin and made himself comfortable in a chair with a good view of the door. He had no idea what the person he was meeting looked like or how he was supposed to know her. He didn't even know her name.

__

I guess she's seen me on TV and will find me, he thought, answering his own question.

He pictured how this girl would look. Your typical computer geek, he thought with a chuckle. Not that it mattered what she looked like. He was too excited about the prospect of showing his friends and family his very own website to be concerned with the appearance of its designer.

A woman making her way through the breakfast-time crowd caught his eye. _That woman would catch anyone's eye, anywhere_, he thought, taking in her petite 5'3" frame, glossy dark hair and luminous eyes. But there was something else captivating his attention, something familiar – a warm sense of memory accompanied that face. Not the awkward feeling he got when running into a woman he'd slept with and never called again. No, this was a different sensation altogether.

She was walking toward him, a smile of recognition lighting up her beautiful face.

"Joey? Do you remember me? I'm going to be your web designer!"

That's when he knew. He saw the tiny hand he'd held as she brought her daughter into the world, and gazed back into the lovely eyes that had gripped his heart on that long ago day.

"Oh my God – Lydia!"

****

A/N: Lydia is the single mother that Joey assisted as she gave birth during the season one episode "TOW The Birth". Her daughter was born at the same time that Carol was having Ben. She was played by Leah Remini, who currently plays "Carrie" on "The King Of Queens".

To be continued…


	11. No One Ever Is To Blame

****

Past & Present

Chapter 9: No One Ever Is To Blame

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters. In my head, I own Joey and a pink corvette, but that's another story.

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: At long last, the new chapter! I'm really sorry to inflict an 8,000 word chapter on you guys, but there was no way to split it into two chapters. I tried, but it just wouldn't work. It nearly got shelved, because the spoiler from hell (which I have posted in my bio section for those of you who are interested) had me pretty discouraged. But thanks to an encouraging note from Kristine and a very nice male reader, I decided to get back in the swing of things. By the way, don't freak over the spoiler. I'd say there's a 50% chance that it's bogus.

As for this chapter, I need to address two points. First, about Ross and Phoebe: the overwhelming majority of readers who contacted me about this were pleased that I gave them a subplot. While it makes for longer chapters, it doesn't take "story time" away from J/R at all. The R/P story fits in with J/R and will help their story to develop. 

The other thing is…yeah, this Lydia thing is scary. Hey, it scares **me** and I'm the one writing it! But good love stories thrive on conflict…so please, be patient with me about this.

Also, I am doing a test drive on my J/R high school story. It's called **"Just For Tonight"**, and I would greatly appreciate your reviews on it.

The song used in this piece is "No One Ever Is To Blame" by Howard Jones…ten points for the first reader who is old enough to actually remember this one…

And finally, I **swear**the next chapter will be shorter! I apologize for the length of this one!

Read, review, and enjoy!

~*~*~

__

You can look at the menu

But you just can't eat

You can feel the cushion

But you can't have a seat

You can dip your foot in the pool

But you can't have a swim

You can feel the punishment

But you can't commit the sin

And you want her

And she wants you

We want everyone

And you want her

And she wants you

No one, no one

No one ever is to blame

~*~*~

"Yep, it's me!" Lydia laughed.

"I can't believe it! How long has it been?" Joey engulfed Lydia in a hug.

"Eight years," she answered promptly.

"How is –" he paused, remembering that he had never learned her daughter's name. "- the baby?" 

"The _baby_," she said with a proud smile, "is eight years old." 

Joey shook his head in disbelief. "Sit down, let me get you some coffee." He signaled Gunther for a cup of coffee before joining Lydia on the orange sofa.

"Eight years old. What does she look like?"

"Wait! I have a picture." Lydia took her wallet from her purse and flipped it open to reveal a photo of her daughter. "This is Jessica – school picture from this year."

Joey studied the photo with awe. "She looks exactly like you…she's beautiful."

Lydia, sensing a compliment in his words, blushed and put her wallet away. "I hope that's a good thing."

"She sure doesn't look anything like her father," Joey said, recalling how he'd caught a glimpse of Lydia's estranged boyfriend when he showed up unexpectedly at the hospital.

"Wait – you never met him. Or did you? I was a little out of it that day…"

Joey looked at his shoes, suddenly shy. "I, uh – I sort of came back to bring you and the baby – Jessica – some stuff, and he was sitting on the bed with you, so I took off." He shrugged, embarrassed.

"I always wondered why you just left the balloons at the door instead of bringing them in yourself." If Joey had glanced up at that moment and seen the expression in Lydia's eyes, he might have understood how long she'd waited to know the answer to that question. 

"You know…he was the father, not me. A guy has to step aside at moments like that." Lydia watched his expression change from embarrassed to wistful.

"Wow, I can't believe you're really going to do my web site!" Joey refocused himself, trying to recapture the lighter mood of a few minutes before. "How did you get into this? You were an office temp when we met."

"Oh boy, where do I start…" Lydia gazed the ceiling, remembering. "Jessica's dad married a Hooter's waitress six weeks after I had his baby…"

"What an loser!" Joey interrupted with venom in his eyes.

"You're damn right he's a loser. I was left with no money, nowhere to go - nothing. So my mom – you remember her?" Joey nodded. "She started watching Jess for me while I went back to work. The office where I was temping went computerized. I learned everything I could about it on that job."

"You're so smart!" Joey smiled admiringly. "For a Celtics fan..."

"Woah, drop it with the Celtics crap." Joey laughed as she continued. "I ended up temping for a web design firm about two years later, when the whole dot com revolution was starting to take off."

Joey nodded sagely, making a mental note to ask Chandler what the hell a dot com revolution was.

"I learned all the tricks of the trade from the guys at that firm. Pretty soon they were giving me their extra work, letting me update sites for them and stuff. They gave me an old computer to use at home, so I could stay home with Jessica and work at the same time. That was years ago, and I'm still with them."

"You really made something of yourself." Joey reached over and patted her hand. "I'm _so_ proud of you!"

Lydia glowed from his praise, mentally recounting all the times she'd taken the tiny florist's card signed "Love, Joey" out from Jessica's baby book, wishing she could see him again.

__

Finally, after eight years. Eight years of seeing his face on TV and kicking herself for letting him get away. The man who had supported her during the most difficult day she'd ever known.

__

I wasn't wrong about us, Lydia thought with relief. _We're bonded for life. Nothing can change that._

It was all worth it for that moment. She gave his hand a grateful squeeze and returned his smile.

~*~*~

__

This is going to work out. _Emma and I will get our own place, and I'll really be on my own, _Rachel told herself, feeling more confident with every step. She pushed open the door to the coffee house with her foot. 

__

Where did I put my cash? Rachel pulled a $5.00 from her purse and turned to the counter.

"Three blueberry muffins to go?" Gunther nodded his response. And then she heard it.

"I'm _so_ proud of you!" 

She turned around at the sound of Joey's voice, blinking at what was the sight of her worst nightmare materializing before her eyes.

Joey was seated on the sofa beside an absolutely beautiful woman. They were leaning close to each other, only separated by a few inches. Apparently absorbed in what could only be an intimate conversation, his stylishly tousled ink-black hair was almost touching the woman's shiny chestnut mane. 

He was smiling at this stranger, his eyes softened with emotion. 

__

That's the way he smiles at me. Rachel fought against her painfully rapid heartbeat as she glanced at the tiny space left between the cozy twosome where their hands met. Every ounce of intuition she possessed was screaming to be heard. This wasn't some random pick-up. This unknown female was someone very, very important to him.

Rachel took a step closer, her worst fears confirmed. _Please don't touch her – please…_

The woman's small hand was lost inside Joey's much larger grip. 

Her first instinct was to escape, to put as much distance as possible between herself and the sight of another woman occupying her place beside Joey. The threat of an uncontrollable outburst of agonized tears was imminent. 

Rachel backed away slowly, unable to tear her eyes away from Joey's face as he interacted with whoever _she_ was.

"Watch it!" Rachel turned around to see the angry face of a man who she'd backed into and caused to spill coffee on both of them, leaving a messy stain on her white track suit.

"Oh - I'm so sorry!" She froze in horror as Joey, hearing her apologies, snapped his head around and saw her.

He jumped up from the sofa. "Rachel!"

The unknown woman fixed her intricately made-up eyes on Rachel. "You know her?" 

The question was directed at Joey. Rachel cast her eyes upon him, demanding him to acknowledge her.

"Rach, come here, I want you to meet someone." He beckoned to her nervously. "Rachel, this is Lydia. She's going to design my web site, you know, for - for the show and everything."

Rachel stared at Lydia. Her mouth refused to form the words of polite greeting that she was expected to say.

"Lydia, this – this is my…" He bit back the word 'girlfriend'. "This is my friend Rachel." The word _friend_ felt like a slap to Rachel. It was a denial of every moment that had passed between the two of them, a betrayal of the promises they'd made.

Lydia flashed a 100-watt smile and extended a perfectly manicured hand. "Nice to meet you, Rachel."

Rachel took the hand offered to her as if it were a rattlesnake. "So…web designer?"

Joey and Lydia nodded in unison.

"Do you always take such a personal interest in your clients?" Rachel forced a chuckle. "Mix a little business with pleasure, huh Lydia?"

Lydia's eyes were as innocent as a doe in the forest. "Oh, Joey and I go _way_ back. We have quite an interesting history." A smile crossed her lips that didn't reach her eyes. "Tell her, Joey."

Joey's eyes darted from Rachel to Lydia and back again. His face wore the expression it always did when his thought process wasn't moving as fast as the situation required. 

"You see…Lydia had a baby…" He began. Rachel looked at him uncomprehendingly. The light of inspiration suddenly shone through and he spoke with more clarity. "You remember the day Ben was born, I spent all day with that single mom who was having her baby alone?" 

Rachel nodded, moving her gaze from Joey to Lydia as her stomach twisted. She remembered his infatuation with the woman very well, almost as vividly as she remembered his disappointment about having to step away when the baby's father returned later that day. Surely this couldn't be…

"Lydia was the woman who had the baby!" Joey beamed, his eyes begging Rachel to share his enthusiasm.

Something too painful to bear was coiling itself around Rachel's heart, strangling her. "And now you're back." Her tone was flat as she took stock of Lydia's fashionable attire and striking Italian looks, so different from her own.

__

But so much like him. The hint of a Queens accent in the back of Lydia's voice hadn't escaped Rachel's attention. 

"Yeah – Lydia!" Joey, sensing Rachel's reaction, was desperate to smooth things over. "Tell Rachel how you got hooked up with me to do the web site!"

"Hooked up?" Sarcasm tinted Rachel's words. "Interesting choice of words, Joe."

"My daughter and I have been following Joey's career for _years_. I've always told her that he was the one who helped her to be born…"

"They have every episode of "Mac & C.H.E.E.S.E." on tape!" Joey interrupted with excitement.

"That _is_ devotion." Rachel knew she sounded hostile, but it was a better alternative than crying or throwing hot coffee in Lydia's face.

"I tried to get in touch with him for a long time, but it just never worked out…" 

Rachel remained silent, trying to squelch the feeling of impending doom that was slowly overtaking her.

"…then I saw an article about him in Soap Opera Digest and it mentioned Estelle by name…"

Rachel nodded. She and Joey had toasted the article's debut with champagne. She never suspected that it would come back to haunt her in such a nauseating way.

"So…I did some checking around and found out that he didn't have a web site…sent Estelle a proposal about doing a one…she called me back and said yes…and here we are!"

"Here we are," Joey repeated.

__

Here we are. Rachel had a flashback to the night when she'd last heard that phrase coming from Joey's mouth.

__

Rachel: So you were saying?

Joey: I'm not quite sure.

Rachel: Okay, well you had asked me how long we had known each other, and I said, "Eight years." And the waiter came over and cut his tip in half, and…now here we are.

Joey: Yeah, here we are. Uh… I… I think I'm…falling in love with you.

"Here we are," she heard herself saying in a far-away voice. 

"Rachel?" Gunther called from behind the counter, holding up a paper bag. "Your muffins?"

Monica. Upstairs, waiting on her muffins. "I _completely _forgot!" She covered her distress with a laugh. "Monica is waiting on those muffins – I better get them to her right now."

"Rachel…please stay," Joey said softly. She saw the hurt and disappointment in his eyes and almost relented. But Lydia, who looked as if she were counting the seconds until Rachel departed, convinced her otherwise.

"You know how Monica gets when she's hungry…" Rachel strode to the counter and took the bag from Gunther, affecting an air of carelessness she was far from feeling. "You two have a _great_ time catching up!" She gave Lydia a fake smile. "Welcome back!" 

~*~*~

Somehow, the world kept turning.

Somehow, she was climbing the stairs.

Somehow, she remembered to turn the knob and walk into Monica's apartment as if she hadn't seen Joey looking at another woman the way he always looked at her.

"Got your muffins," she said brightly to Monica, who was still seated at the table with her glass of milk.

Monica thanked her and opened the bag, selecting a muffin and taking a bite. "Where's your paper?"

Rachel went blank for a second. "Paper?"

"You said you were going to check out the roommate ads?"

"Oh yeah." Seeing Joey with Lydia had pushed all thoughts of buying a paper out of her mind. "I got distracted…"

"Ran into Joey, huh?" Monica began working on her second muffin.

"You might say that." Rachel got a diet soda from the fridge and debated mentioning Lydia. 

"Hold that thought." Monica stood up and headed for the bathroom. "I thought this constant peeing stuff didn't start until second trimester."

"Just wait, it gets much worse." 

Monica giggled and closed the bathroom door behind her. Within seconds, her piercing scream sliced through the air.

Rachel ran to the bathroom door. "Monica! What is it?"

"Come look at this!" Monica cried.

Rachel went into the bathroom and saw what there was to see. She crossed the room in triple time, throwing open the door to Monica and Chandler's bedroom.

"Chandler, get up! Monica's bleeding!" 

He sat up in bed, hair mussed, eyes half shut.

"She's bleeding! We've got to get her to the hospital **now**!"

Chandler hit the ground running and beat Rachel back to the living room. Monica already had her coat on and was holding her shoes.

"I'll get a cab." Chandler grabbed his jacket and went for the door. 

"No! In this weather it'll take too long – go get the Porsche from the garage." She snatched the keys from her purse and tossed him the keys. Rachel knelt down and helped Monica into her shoes. Chandler was already out the door.

Monica was breathing rapidly, her eyes dilated with panic.

"Mon – you've _got_ to stay calm for the baby's sake, ok?" Rachel helped her up from the chair. "Oh God - you don't need to take the stairs." Rachel stifled her own fear on Monica's behalf. "I have to get Emma into her coat." 

"There's no other way to get downstairs." Monica stood up. "We'll walk slow and I'll lean on you." She opened the door, revealing the door to Joey's apartment.

Joey. Still downstairs.

"Hold on," Rachel commanded. She grabbed the phone and dialed Joey's cell number. 

~*~*~

Lydia took a folder from her briefcase and passed it to Joey. "Estelle sent these to me…which one do you want to use for your home page?"

Joey opened it and leafed through the half dozen headshots. "I don't know. Which one do you like best?"

Lydia threw him a coy smile, inching closer to him on the sofa. "You're asking the wrong person. I think they're _all_ great."

The ringing of his cell phone interrupted them. "Just a sec," he apologized to Lydia before answering.

"Hello?"

Rachel's words came out in a frantic rush. "Joey, Monica's bleeding and we have to take her to the hospital right now and Chandler went to get the car and I have to carry Emma and I need you to help me get Monica downstairs –"

"On my way." He jumped off the couch and turned to Lydia. "I gotta take off – my friend - she needs to go to the hospital ."

"The one who was here before?"

"No, another one." He began walking away.

"You sure got a lot of female friends," she commented.

"I'll call you and we'll get together later and work on this." He put on his jacket in one movement.

"Maybe over dinner tonight?" Her voice was hopeful.

"Maybe." He ran for the door and stopped. "I don't have your number!"

"Estelle has it."

He ran out with a wave to her over his shoulder.

~*~*~

Monica and Rachel were sitting side by side on the couch, holding on to each other when Joey burst in, out of breath from racing up the stairs two at a time.

His eyes met Rachel's over Monica's head. Rachel shot him a look of sheer terror that would have gone unnoticed by anyone else but which he understood perfectly. He gave her an almost imperceptible shake of his head before facing Monica.

"Come on, Mon. Joey's here for you." He took her hands and pulled her up slowly. "Can you put your arms around my neck?"

Monica whispered a yes and complied. Joey lifted her from the floor with ease. Rachel picked up Emma and ran ahead to open the door. 

"Now, I've seen every kind of weird pregnancy thing there is to see between my sisters and Rachel," Joey was saying as he made his way to the hall. "And this is going to be fine. Ok?"

Monica nodded wearily. Rachel closed the door behind them. 

"Ross –" Monica looked at Rachel urgently. 

"I called him on my way up, and he's going to call your parents." Joey answered. "We'll call Phoebe on the way over."

"You took care of everything." Monica leaned her head against him and closed her eyes tightly as they descended the stairs.

__

Also good in crisis. Rachel added one more item to her list of reasons why she was unwilling to let him go.

~*~*~

Rachel shifted on the hard plastic chair beneath her. The cold, alcohol scented waiting room of the ER was disturbingly sterile. Emma was asleep on Rachel's lap, pinning her in an uncomfortable position. Joey wrapped his hand around hers, leaning back in the chair beside her.

"Calm down," he whispered. "She's going to be all right."

"But what if she isn't?" Rachel drew a ragged breath and squeezed Joey's hand so hard that it hurt. "If she loses this baby, I don't know what she – or any of us – will do."

"Come here." He put a comforting arm around her. She willingly fell into his embrace, savoring the comfort he brought her. She felt certain, in that instant, that there was nothing between him and Lydia. She was just being paranoid. No one could hold her that way and have feelings for another woman.

"Where's my sister?" Ross stormed in, pale and haggard, his eyes concealed behind black sunglasses. 

"The doctor ordered an ultrasound and an amnio…Chandler is back there with her." Rachel reluctantly broke away from Joey as she spoke.

"Dude, what's with the shades?" Joey asked.

"Nothing…I, uh…have a headache today." Ross slid down in his chair and hung his head.

Rachel was about to offer him some of the asprin she had in her purse when sound of jangling earrings and bangle bracelets clanking together announced Phoebe's arrival. Her long blonde hair was pulled back with a barrette. Like Ross, she wore dark sunglasses.

"Again with the shades," Joey commented.

"Yeah, how about we stop talking about my choice of eyewear and you tell me what's wrong with Monica?" Phoebe dropped into the second chair down from Ross and leaned forward as Rachel explained what had happened.

"Hangover," Joey snickered to Rachel when she finished filling Phoebe in.

"So…we just sit here and wait?" Phoebe sat back and swung her foot impatiently.

"I think that's why they call it the _waiting room_," Ross answered, giving Phoebe an expectant stare. 

She refused to participate in their usual banter.

Emma's eyes flew open and she began to scream. Rachel sighed and stood up. "I need to take her for a walk." She got her purse, looking expectantly at Ross, who didn't seem to notice her. _Why isn't he offering to go with me?_

Rather than eagerly joining Rachel to take Emma for a breather, Ross scooted over to fill the vacant seat between himself and Phoebe. As if on cue, Phoebe moved down to the next seat, again placing an empty seat between her and Ross.

Joey assessed the situation and made his move. "Why uh…why don't I go with you?" His eyes widened as he waited for Ross to react.

Instead of surging out of his chair to disrupt Rachel and Joey's potential private moment, Ross' eyes were tracking Phoebe's every movement as she took a magazine from the ancient spread of periodicals on the formica coffee table in front of them.

Rachel and Joey exchanged a surprised glance before walking out of the waiting room as fast as they could, Emma in tow.

~*~*~

On the pretext of getting a magazine, Ross moved down to sit next to Phoebe. With one eye he examined a six-year old copy of "People". The other eye never wandered from the tall blonde beside him.

"Stop it." Her barked command invited no rebuttals.

"I'm not doing anything." He cringed when he heard his whiney tone and altered his approach slightly. "Are we going to talk about it?"

Her eyes, still hidden behind black shades, never left the magazine she was holding. "_It _never happened. So that would be…um…no."

"Put down the damn magazine and look at me."

"Can you stop bothering me? I'm trying to catch up on my reading!"

Ross craned his neck to view the cover of her magazine. "Phoebe – it's 'Field And Stream'!"

"So? I'm learning all about –" she glanced at the page in front of her "-bow hunting! I might need to know about this in case I'm ever…stranded in the wilderness and have to kill a mountain goat to survive."

"You'd just boil some grass and make soup from it." He slumped down in his chair, deflected by her resistance.

She tossed the magazine back on the coffee table. "All right. Let's talk about it." She huffed a sigh. "I'm willing to do anything to make this go away."

"I don't want it to go away," he answered, unable to conceal his disappointment in her answer. "I want it to come back again."

"This is _not_ happening." Phoebe got up and walked toward the tiny room across the hall filled with vending machines. Ross followed at her heels.

"Give me _one_ reason why something shouldn't happen with us," Ross challenged her.

"I'll give you three." She pushed quarters into the soda machine as she spoke. "One, Mike. Two, Rachel. Three, Emma." Her soda can arrived with a loud rumble and a bang. "Your turn."

"I have two reasons why it _should _happen." He watched her open her soda and take a slow drink, pulsating with lust over her every gesture. "One, Ross. Two, Phoebe."

"You're _such_ a hypocrite." She shook her head at him, contempt flooding her.

"Me? Hypocrite? What the hell does _that_ mean?"

"Joey really loves Rachel – I mean _really_, 'once-in-a-lifetime' type of loves her – and you pee your pants like a little girl every time the two of them look at each other. But you, you're allowed to rattle my cage even though I'm seeing someone else, and Rachel is my best friend." She turned to leave and he stepped ahead, intercepting her at the door of the vending room.

"I don't want to 'rattle your cage'. This is more than that."

"Yeah. Well, news flash: I'm not going to be your next 'on a break' girl."

"I'm not on a break. Charlie and I are…broke." 

"Whatever. The point is, you're on the rebound from both Charlie and Rachel."

"Which has nothing to do with us –"

"Which has everything to do with us." She pushed her sunglasses back from her sleepless eyes. "You split up with Carol and we tried to take the pool table for a test drive. You and Rachel went on a break, and you get it on with Chloe the Copy Queen."

"Does this have a point? Or are you just reminding me of my failed relationships?"

"The point is this - you can't use me to get over your breakup. I won't be Chloe Version 2."

He backed away, stung by her accusation. "Do you really believe – after everything we've seen each other through – that I could just…just _use_ you like a total stranger?"

She shrugged, staring at her Diet Coke. "All I know is if you _did _use me, I'd lose something very precious."

His dark eyes fixed on her like a homeless puppy seeking shelter. "What, Pheebs? What would you lose?"

She answered with a shaky breath and a voice filled with emotion. "I'd lose the person I trust most in the world. The one who gave me a bike – who forgave me for mugging him – who –"

Whatever she was about to say was lost forever as Ross silenced her with a kiss, which she enthusiastically returned. 

"Mike never came home last night," she gasped the words as he reached around her to close the door to the vending room.

"Mike who?" His kisses intensified as he backed her up against the candy machine. She wrapped her arms around him, dropping her drink on the floor. Ross pulled away from her and looked down at the floor.

"Ugh, there's Diet Coke everywhere!" He grimaced.

"Can you stop being a girl long enough to make out with me?" She grabbed the front of his sweatshirt roughly and pulled him closer, making him forget the existence of sugar free beverages.

~*~*~

The solarium at the end of the hall was dark and dreary, as the late autumn rains offered no light. Rachel seated herself on the cold linoleum floor, holding Emma in a standing position. Emma flexed her knees up and down vigorously as she wrapped her tiny hands around her mother's fingers.

"She's gearing up to walk soon, I just know it." Rachel stole a searching glance at Joey, hoping that talk of Emma could break the silence that had reined between them during their walk from the waiting room.

"What's with Ross? Why did he let me go with you? He acted like he didn't care."

"No idea," Rachel answered. "But if this is his new attitude, our lives just got much easier. We still have to be careful, though. Until he calls his lawyer off, anyway."

He crossed his arms over his chest and watched Emma to avoid Rachel's eyes. "I won't see her again, if it's going to cause trouble for us."

There was no need to identify the 'her' in question. "Wow." Rachel raised her eyebrows in amazement. "There's no games with you, is there?"

"Should there be?"

"No, no…it's just…different." 

"What do you want me to do about Lydia?" He sat down on the floor beside her. "I can find someone else to do the project for me…if my working with her makes you feel bad, I won't do it."

"Well…what do you think you should do?" Rachel adjusted Emma's sweater slowly, feeling more anxiety about his answer than she cared to show. 

"I think I should listen to the woman I love." He planted a quick kiss on her cheek. "Which happens to be _you_."

Guilt and jealousy battled inside Rachel as she watched her daughter exercise. _He gave up a movie role for you,_ the guilty side said. _The least you could do is to let him have this._

He was crazy about Lydia, the jealous side argued. _They bonded over the birth of her baby. This is too risky._

Unwillingly she looked over at Joey. He was watching her like she was the proverbial other shoe that might drop. But for all that, his brown eyes still held incomparable love and devotion whenever she was in his sight. Her heart melted; she couldn't deny him this.

"Let Lydia do the project." She closed her eyes, trying to void out the raging insecurity that Lydia's appearance had wrought. "If I can't trust _you_…then I can't trust anyone."

"There's nothing between Lydia and me." He spoke slowly, finding his words as he went along. "I mean…we hadn't seen each other in years. She's just a friend who can help me while I help her."

"Help her how?"

"Jessica's dad left her –"

"Jessica?"

"Yeah, Jessica is her daughter, the one she had the day Ben was born. Her dad took off and doesn't help Lydia out at all. She really needs the money…" He was clearly uneasy with this conversation, Rachel observed. "She needs some help. I can help her."

"I guess…I guess you should do what you can for them." _If this is the right thing to do,_ she asked herself, _why do I feel like I have so much to lose?_

"Well, it's just that…I feel sort of responsible for them, you know? Because I was the only person there when Jessica was born…it makes me kind of like her Godfather or something."

"I can understand that," she answered carefully. "But they haven't been in your life for eight years…"

"I'm not going to risk what we have over this. If you say you don't want me to do it, I won't. But there's nothing going on but friends helping friends."

"And that's all there is to it?" She locked on to his gaze, seeking an answer to set her worries to rest.

"I swear." He held his hands up. "You know there's no one else for me but you."

She gave him an affirmative answer that required no words.

~*~*~

Ross and Phoebe were studiously involved in reading when Rachel, Joey, and Emma walked back to the waiting room. 

"Eww!" Rachel stopped at the door to the vending room, lifting her foot to examine the bottom of her sneaker.

"What is it?" Joey knelt down to examine the source of her disgust.

"There's - like – sticky brown goo all over the floor!" She wrinkled her nose and scraped her foot on the linoleum. 

Ross hid his face in an aged copy of Cosmo with Cindy Crawford on the cover as Rachel and Joey entered the room. 

"Ross, can you take her for a while? I'm worn out." Rachel handed her daughter to Ross before taking a seat beside Joey. "Did Chandler bring an update while we were gone?"

"Oh my God – Chandler!" Phoebe turned to Ross, panicked.

"Woah – woah – woah," Joey burst out. "What do you mean, 'Oh my God Chandler'?" He mimicked Phoebe's high-pitched tone perfectly. "Did something happen to Monica?"

"What Phoebe means is," Ross cleared his throat nervously, stalling for time. "What she was trying to say is, she and I went looking for Chandler, and we didn't find him…"

"Yes, yes!" Phoebe intoned, nodding emphatically.

"And that means, if he – he came here to tell us something really important about _my sister_ –" his eyes darted guiltily to Phoebe, who hung her head, "- he would have seen that we were all gone and –"

"He wouldn't have known why," Phoebe finished, wordlessly telegraphing her distress to Ross.

Rachel and Joey exchanged a baffled glance. "Ok…you two might want to figure out why you did _that_," Rachel said as Joey made a disdainful sound in the background, "while I go to the nurse's station and ask if there's any word on Monica."

"No need," Chandler's voice proceeded him into the room. "They're done with her. She can go home."

Everyone stood up, a chorus of questions filling the air.

"It was just implantation bleeding." Chandler's shoulders sagged with relief. "They did an ultra sound and an amnio…the baby's fine."

Joey smacked his forehead. "Implantation bleeding! Why didn't I think of that? It's when the embryo attaches itself to the uterine wall, resulting in a small amount of maternal bleeding."

Dead quiet hit the room as four pairs of shocked eyes stared at Joey.

"What?" He looked around at all of them. "I read it in one of Rachel's pregnancy books."

"Did _you_ know that?" Ross demanded, turning to Rachel.

"Sort of," she replied weakly. "He kinda…read them for me."

"How did you learn anything, if he did the reading for you?" Phoebe asked.

Rachel shrugged and answered in a small voice. "Summaries for each chapter."

"Let me get this straight – you read her pregnancy books for her, and gave her summaries of each chapter?"

"That's what we just said, Ross." Rachel was getting defensive.

"How could you _do_ that?" Ross's face was incredulous as he tried to picture what had taken place.

"How do you think I got through high school?" She took Emma from him and picked up her purse. "Can we see Monica now?"

"Sure, follow me. They're getting her paperwork ready to go." Chandler led the way to Monica's examining room.

"God, that was close," Ross whispered to Phoebe as they walked a short distance behind the others.

"Good thing the universe gave them both lots of pretty and not much smart," Phoebe chortled.

~*~*~

Rachel carefully arranged pillows behind Monica's head on the couch as Phoebe placed a blanket over her. Joey had carried Monica upstairs while Chandler parked the Porsche in the garage. Ross was on the phone ordering pizza delivery.

"Really, you guys, I'm fine," Monica protested. "I don't need to be fussed over."

"We _want_ to fuss over you," Phoebe answered. 

"The doctor ordered complete bed rest, and that's what you're going to have," Rachel insisted. "I don't want your feet to hit the ground for the next two weeks."

"I'm going to get you some water." Phoebe headed for the fridge, brushing against Ross as she walked by him and causing him to drop the phone.

"Ross, be careful," Monica called to him. "That phone isn't under warrantee anymore." She pulled Rachel down to sit on the edge of the couch. "I need to talk to you." She looked at Joey, who was sitting in the big chair. "You might as well be in on this, too." He moved to sit on the floor beside the couch.

"I need help," Monica began, speaking to Rachel. "And you're the only person who can do it."

"Anything. Just name it."

"I need for you to move in with us for a few weeks." Rachel was too surprised to answer. "Just hear me out," Monica continued. "I don't want to stay in bed for the next few weeks, but I have to. That means I'm going to need an extra pair of hands and feet around here." Monica smiled as she spoke. "I trust you. I feel comfortable with you. You're the only one who can do this for me."

Rachel nodded, considering.

"I know you had other plans…but…this is for Emma's cousin." Monica turned to Joey for backup. "Help me out here. If she moves in with us, you can see her whenever you want."

"Do it, Rach. Monica needs you. The baby needs you!" 

"How can I say no?" Rachel hugged Monica. "I'll talk to Ross right now."

Phoebe walked over and handed Monica a bottle of water. "Drink up," she commanded.

Rachel took Ross by the hand and pulled him into the spare room, closing the door behind them just as Chandler was opening the front door.

"Look who I found wandering around in the cold." Chandler pulled someone in from the hallway. "Mon, can we keep him?" 

Mike followed Chandler inside, grinning sheepishly.

"Mike!" Phoebe glanced at the spare room door nervously.

"I really missed you last night." Mike reached out to take Phoebe's hand. "Can we go outside and talk for a minute?"

Phoebe scowled back at him, but didn't let go of his hand. "I don't know what you could say to fix what happened last night."

"Can I at least try?" He gave her a winning smile. She nodded and followed him into the hall.

Ross and Rachel emerged from the spare room with Emma. "We've reached a decision," Ross announced.

"She's going to stay?" Monica asked hopefully.

Rachel's face lit up with a glowing smile. "I'm going to stay."

Monica jumped off the couch in her excitement.

"Sit back down!" Ross yelled.

Monica complied. "I can't get use to this resting stuff."

"Here's the plan." Rachel sat back down on the couch with Monica. "I'm going to get just enough stuff from Ross' place to make it through the next two weeks. Emma will stay here half the time and with Ross half the time." 

"She can sleep in the bassinet," Chandler added.

"And in two weeks, if you're back on my feet, I'll…make other arrangements." Rachel placed significant emphasis on her words. Monica smiled knowingly. "If not, I'll stick around until you don't need me anymore."

"I've got to go run an errand." Chandler walked toward the door.

"What are you up to?" Monica called after him.

"You'll see," he said mysteriously, opening the door. Phoebe and Mike entered, hand in hand, as Chandler left. 

"Aw, you guys worked it out!" Rachel ran to hug them both.

"Yeah, we kinda did," Phoebe beamed at Mike. 

No one noticed when Ross let himself out onto the balcony, preferring the cold drizzle outside to the sight of Phoebe and Mike back together.

~*~*~

Rachel looked down at her makeshift bed with a satisfied smile. Chandler's mysterious errand had been a trip to Bed, Bath & Beyond to purchase an Aero bed for Rachel and a set of comfortable, if not luxurious, bedding to go with it. The bassinet was stationed nearby, and Rachel felt as if she'd fallen into unexpected good fortune. She had escaped from the tomb known as Ross' apartment.

With a quick check on the sleeping Emma, Rachel stepped out into the living room. Chandler had gone to sleep sitting up in the chair. Monica was propped up on pillows, absorbed in one of Rachel's pregnancy books. The sun was beginning to set behind the endless skyscrapers of the city, filling the room with a soft rose colored light.

Rachel took a garbage bag out from under the sink and began cleaning up. She gathered the empty pizza boxes, soda cans and water bottles that littered the room, her mind drifting over the events of the day. Phoebe and Mike, blissfully reunited, had fed each other pizza like two teenagers. A strangely subdued Ross had devoted himself to his sister, disinterested in whether or not Rachel and Joey sat together as they ate. Chandler recovered his sense of humor enough to keep them all laughing by making fun of Monica's emergency room doctor. 

Things had felt almost normal, Rachel reflected. Like the close knit group of the six of them– no, seven, she thought, adding Emma to the list – no, eight – she quickly added Mike – were a family again.

Phoebe and Mike had left together "to go home", Phoebe had said emphatically. Ross had gone back to his place with a promise to help Rachel move a few things in the morning. Joey had returned to his apartment, exhausted. 

He had pulled Rachel aside before leaving and told her that he had to call Lydia and set up another meeting. He had begged her with his eyes to understand. She'd done her best to assent cheerfully. 

__

It's not that I don't trust him, she told herself as she tied the garbage bag shut. _It's that I don't trust Lydia._

She opened the door, stepping out into the hall with the garbage bag to take it to the trash chute. A throaty female laugh escaped from Joey's closed door, followed by a child's giggle.

Rachel froze to the spot.

The door opened slowly, Joey's voice reaching her before she actually saw him. "I'm tellin' you, they _still_ suck."

"If they suck, the Knicks are whatever's _below_ sucking," Lydia's voice answered him. She was the first to appear in the hall. Joey followed closely behind, a little girl that looked absurdly like Lydia riding on his shoulders.

"Oh, hi!" Lydia turned on her brilliant smile. "You're Joey's friend from this morning!"

"Yeah," Rachel said with a strange laugh. She took in Lydia's impeccable Seven Jeans, chic leather jacket, flawless makeup and shining hair, contrasting it with her own dingy tracksuit and ponytail that she'd had on since early morning.

"Rach," Joey said excitedly. "This is Jessica." He tilted his head up to look at the little girl who was riding his shoulders. She looked back down at him, enthralled.

__

The Joey charm works on women of all ages, Rachel noted with a stab of heartache.

"He helped me to get born," Jessica informed Rachel proudly.

"We're just going to go over some stuff for his site," Lydia said quietly. "You know, photos…"

"Come with us," Joey added. "We're going to that arcade burger place."

"I remember it." _Where we went the night I found out that I had to leave,_ she thought. 

"Get your coat," Joey insisted. "Hey, bring Emma too!" He smiled as thoughts of Emma and Jessica playing together filled his imagination. "This is going to be great!"

"I – I can't," Rachel said, twisting the garbage bag handle in her hand. "Chandler is worn out…I need to be here with Monica so he can sleep…"

Joey's face fell. "Can't Ross come stay with her?"

Rachel laughed ruefully. "Yeah, because Ross is always the first to volunteer as a babysitter when you and me want to go out."

Lydia immediately seized on Rachel's words, understanding why this other woman behaved so oddly toward her.

"Why don't we have the meeting at my place?" Joey suggested to Lydia. "We can get something delivered…Rachel and Emma can come over…"

"I want to play the arcade games," Jessica pouted.

Rachel summoned all of her trust in Joey to reassure her. _He loves me,_ she told herself with certainty. _He doesn't love anyone **but**_ _me._

"Are you kidding?" She smiled them. "Go! Go to the arcade, have a great time! We'll work out something and all get together soon."

Joey stood still, hesitating, longing with every ounce of his being for Rachel to be at his side.

"Go!" She waved them away. "I'm just going to throw this down the chute – you better not be here when I get back!"

She walked down the hall, hearing Lydia's persuasive tone countering Joey's hesitation.

__

He has to have his own life, Rachel reasoned as she opened the chute. _I can't demand that he waste every opportunity that comes his way until we can be together._

The shoved the garbage into the chute, wondering why she felt as if the most important thing in her life was going down with it.

~*~*~

__

You can build a mansion 

That you just can't live in 

You're the fastest runner 

But you're not allowed to win 

Some break the rules 

And live to count the cost 

The insecurity is the thing that won't get lost 

And you want her

And she wants you 

We want everyone 

And you want her

And she wants you 

No one, no one, 

No one ever is to blame

~*~*~

"Ready to go?" Ross stuck his head in the door of the room Rachel and Emma shared in his apartment. It was Sunday morning and he was going to help Rachel carry her things across the street to Monica's.

"Almost." Rachel double-checked the two bags on her bed. One contained clothes for herself and Emma. The smaller bag contained some of her maternity clothes that she'd decided to give to Monica. "I'm gonna call Phoebe and ask her if she wants to bring some of her maternity stuff over for Monica. It'll be like a mini-shower." She picked up the phone extension beside her bed and began dialing Phoebe's number. "Monica will love it."

"Do you _have_ to drag Phoebe into this?" Ross whined. 

"What is _with_ you?"

"Nothing…but you know, Phoebe's clothes are weird. Monica won't like them."

"I can't believe you're talking about Phoebe like that." Rachel ignored him and finished dialing the number.

"Great," Ross mumbled under his breath as he carried Rachel's bags to the door. "I hope Mike comes too!" he shouted to Rachel.

~*~*~

"I love this!" Monica held up a dark gray designer maternity dress from Rachel. "I think this is going to fit _really_ soon."

"Ooh! Open mine next!" Phoebe passed Monica a Christmas gift bag spilling over with clothing. 

Monica reached inside and pulled out the first item she put her hand on. "Oh, Pheebs…" Monica held up a pair of maternity panties that had seen better days. "I think I may want to get my own underwear…"

"Ok, me next!" Rachel pushed her bag forward.

Monica plowed through the bag. "I want to get something from the bottom," she explained. "I think I found something…" She removed an exquisitely cut black dress. "Now _this_ is something to wear for a night on the town." She held it up for Chandler, who let out an admiring whistle.

Rachel instantly recognized the dress. "That – " she cleared her throat "- that's the dress I wore on my date with Joey."

"Sweetie, you should keep this." Monica passed the dress back to Rachel. "This is too special to give away."

Rachel held the soft fabric in her hands, lost in a memory too beautiful and painful to share. 

Mike burst in the front door, saving the moment from unbearable awkwardness. "Muffins for everyone!" 

"I'll try to remove Ross from the balcony." Chandler stood up and stretched. 

"What is _doing_ out there?" Monica asked Rachel.

"I don't know – he said something about taking up bird watching." 

Everyone failed to observe Phoebe's guilt-stricken face as she watched Ross out on the balcony, freezing and alone.

Mike came by with a tray of muffins to pass out to everyone before taking a seat beside Phoebe. Chandler dragged Ross in from the balcony.

"Spot any birds?" Monica asked her brother as he took a seat beside Rachel and Emma. 

"Yeah, the yellow crested…something," he ended lamely, casting a hangdog glance at Phoebe and Mike as they shared a muffin.

Rachel wasn't interested in the muffins. She held the dress up to her cheek just once before putting down again.

Joey's voice echoed in from the hallway. Rachel sat, listening closely. Joey's deep laughter was followed by the increasingly familiar sound of Lydia's sarcastic reply and Jessica's giggle.

__

Don't bring her in here, Rachel thought, hoping that Joey had ESP.

Joey flung the door open, letting Lydia and Jessica in first. "Look what we got!" He held up a bag from Best Buy.

"An eight year old daughter?" Chandler quipped before catching sight of Rachel's tormented face and regretting it.

"A digital camera for Lydia!" Joey opened the box like a little boy on Christmas morning. "She can take – what's the word?" He paused, questioning Lydia.

"Candids," she supplied.

"Candids of me for all the fans to see on my site." He could barely contain his excitement. "How cool is this?"

"_So_ cool," Rachel replied icily.

Joey's happiness over the camera was instantly dashed. He quietly joined the rest of the group, sitting on the floor in front of the TV. Lydia perched herself beside him and Jessica clamored onto his lap. 

__

And here we are. Rachel looked around at the whole lot of them. Monica and Chandler with their baby on the way; Phoebe and Mike with their budding romance; Joey with this woman who seemed to view him as the father her child never had; and herself, with Ross…again. 

__

Ross, who hasn't so much as looked at me in twenty-four hours but won't let me go. She followed his gaze straight to Phoebe and Mike. 

__

He wants us to have what they have, she guessed to herself. 

Excusing herself, Rachel took the black dress to the spare room and laid it carefully on her bed. She heard footsteps behind her and the door closing. She didn't have to turn around to know it was Joey.

"That's the dress you wore…"

"You remembered." She turned around and saw him – the Joey she had grown to care about so much. _Too much,_ she told herself.

"Like I could ever forget." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, struggling to put his thoughts into words. "She's not you…"

"Lydia?"

"Every minute that I'm with her, all I can think about is how it should be _you_ with me, and Emma…"

"But I _can't _be. Not yet." She sat down on the bed, suddenly drained. "There's no reason why you shouldn't be friends with her and help her out." She heard defeat in her own voice as she said the words out loud. "I think she's been waiting to find you again."

"That's crazy talk." He sat down next to her, placing his hand on her knee.

"No…I see something there." Rachel exhaled sadly. "She's been building you up to Jessica all these years as a father figure."

"Even if that's true – and I'm not saying it is – _she's not you_. There's nothing else wrong with her…but there doesn't have to be. I can't love anyone but you."

A quick rap on the door was followed by Lydia's appearance. "Joe, we gotta leave now if we're going to make the next train to Queens."

His eyes burned into Rachel's. She knew that he was torn between wanting to be with her out of love and needing to go with Lydia out of obligation.

"What are you guys doing in Queens?" She was surprised at how normal and polite she could make herself sound.

"We're both going to have lunch at our mother's…" Lydia's tone was urgent. "You coming?"

"He's coming," Rachel stood up. "Have a wonderful time." Joey stood up as well, the anguish of a million heartbreaks reaching out of his eyes as he looked back at Rachel.

She walked them to the door, hearing everyone's pleasant chatter in the background like muzac in an elevator. 

"How about brunch uptown?" Mike was asking Phoebe.

"You got yourself a date," Phoebe answered, trying not to look at Ross.

Rachel stood by the window, looking down at the fire escape. Mechanically, she said goodbye to Phoebe and Mike as they left for brunch. Ross' hand on her shoulder brought her out of her stupor.

"Want to go for some lunch? Chandler said he'd watch Emma and give us a little down time."

Rachel could see Monica asleep on the couch and Chandler lost in the Sunday paper. Ross' morose face struck her as exceptionally sad and in need of a friend.

"Why not?" she answered.

Ross helped her into her coat and they waved a silent goodbye to Chandler before heading out.

"How about Paul's Café?" Ross asked. "They have a terrific Sunday brunch, and it's such a nice place – great atmosphere."

Rachel bit her bottom lip too hard, fighting something she refused to let herself feel. "Yeah, I've been there."

~*~*~

__

You can see the summit

But you can't reach it 

It's the last piece of the puzzle 

But you just can't make it fit 

Doctor says you're cured 

But you still feel the pain 

Aspirations in the clouds 

But your hopes go down the drain 

And you want her

And she wants you 

We want everyone 

And you want her

And she wants you 

No one, no one 

No one ever is to blame

~*~*~

A/N: To Be Continued! 


	12. A Damn Cold Night

****

Past & Present

Chapter 10: A Damn Cold Night

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters. But I really should…don't you guys agree?

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: One thing I need to get out of the way first: yes, this story is dramatic. That's why I categorized it as a _romance/drama_. If drama is not your thing, you might want to stop reading now, because the drama is going to be dialed up to new levels in the two chapters following this one.

Having said that…

The countdown to the resolution begins in the next chapter. There are probably only four chapters remaining at this point. I already know how it's going to end and how we're going to get there. I realize that there have been a few twists and turns. This chapter is no exception. If some of the things that happen in this one seem a little crazy, just hang in there with me. All will be revealed in the end, and I think most of you will be very happy with the finale.

I've taken some criticism for the direction and tone of this story. Like any writer, I believe in staying true to my vision even if it's not to everyone's liking. Still, some good reviews would mean everything to me right now. I really need some positive feedback. So, as always, read, enjoy, and **review!**

P.S. – The title of this chapter comes from an Averil Lavigne song: "I'm With You". I listened to it as I wrote certain parts of this, and it seeped in somehow.

~*~*~

"What happened with you and Mike?" Chandler stirred his coffee as he asked Phoebe his question.

"It was just a misunderstanding," Phoebe answered, leaning closer to Chandler so he could better hear her against the din of the morning rush in Central Perk. "You know his ex wife has sort of a problem with pills…"

They were interrupted by the arrival of Ross, who smiled when he saw Chandler but stopped short when he saw Phoebe. He stood still for a moment, debating with himself about whether or not to join them before taking a seat next to the little table.

"Phoebe was just telling me about what happened with Mike," Chandler told him. Ross nodded and stared at Phoebe's boots.

"Anyway," Phoebe continued, clearing her throat. "She was having a hard time because their bird died…he went over to help her find someone to cremate the bird for them. He ended up staying all night, talking her into getting treatment for this whole prescription drug thing of hers." Phoebe smiled and gazed up at the ceiling. "He's so awesome!"

"So are you both on for helping me paint the baby's room?" Chandler asked.

"I'm for anything that involves paint fumes," Phoebe answered. "What color is it going to be?"

"Well, since the amnio results revealed that it's a boy, we decided to go with a revolutionary choice."

"Blue?" Ross chimed in.

"Yeah, pretty much," Chandler answered.

"What time?" Phoebe was getting up to leave. 

"Around 6:00." Chandler turned his attention to Ross. "You're coming too, right?"

"Of course. Although I _am_ allergic to paint fumes."

"You're scared of painting under Monica's supervision, aren't you?" Chandler countered.

"Terrified." Ross's eyes followed Phoebe as she made her way to the door of the coffee house. "I'll be right back…I just remembered something I forgot to tell Phoebe."

He rushed to the door, catching Phoebe by the arm as she stepped out. 

"Is that _it_? You're just going to go back to him without so much as telling me why?"

"I _love_ him…and he loves me. I can't ruin that over a physical thing with you." She paused, her natural honesty getting the better of her. "Even if it was a really intense, powerful thing…which it was."

"Can you give yourself more time to think? Maybe you and Mike could go on a break until you decide…"

"Seriously, you've got to stop with this break thing of yours." She sighed and took a step back from him. "Look, I'm sorry I hurt you. It was a mistake. What I have with you is too important to destroy for some fleeting attraction."

"It's _not _a fleeting attraction," he insisted, knowing that the battle was lost.

"Let's go back to the way things were and pretend that those two incidents never happened," she pleaded, looking suddenly exhausted. "I feel like death warmed over this morning. I'm not up to rehashing this right now."

He loosened his hold on her arm. "I'm sorry," he said, as much to himself as to her.

"I've got to get to an important appointment. Can we finish this later?" 

Ross nodded. "I'll see you tonight at the paint party."

She gave him a quick hug and disappeared into the crowded street.

~*~*~

"Six cans of 'Summer Sky'?" Monica called from her seat on the couch.

"Check," Chandler answered.

"Five natural fiber brushes?"

"Check."

"Five paint pans?"

"Check."

"Five rollers?"

"Check," Rachel called from the room she occupied, where she was arranging painting supplies. "I got everything covered in there," she said as she joined Chandler and Monica in the living room. "What time is everyone supposed to get here?"

Chandler checked his watch. "Any minute now. Everyone said they'd be here, but I haven't seen Ross or Phoebe since this morning."

"Have you seen Joey?" Rachel asked, hiding her face by rummaging through Monica's neatly organized box of scrap rags.

"Yeah, he'll be here. He's in charge of sandwiches."

"I suppose _Lydia_ will be joining him." Rachel pronounced Lydia's name with mocking sarcasm.

"God, I hope not." Chandler shuddered.

"Why not?" Rachel looked up from the rag box, eagerly awaiting Chandler's assessment of her competition.

"Well, you know those really annoying tiny monkeys that screech constantly and are all over you twenty-four seven?"

"You mean like Marcel?" Monica interjected.

"Yeah, like Marcel," Chandler answered. "Give Marcel a French manicure and a laptop – instant Lydia."

"While I agree with you," Monica said from the couch, "you know _way_ too much about nail care."

"For the love of God, she is _so_ _loud_. Janice sounds like Enya by comparison." Monica and Rachel both laughed, causing Chandler to warm to his subject. "She's so short and tiny, I'm always expecting her to invite me to join the Lullaby League or the Lollipop Guild. And she's _all_ over Joey, _all the time_, like he's the jungle gym at McDonald's Play Place and she's a five year old who needs to refill her prescription for Ritalin." 

Chandler made a sour face, mimicking Lydia's smoky voice and Queens accent. " 'Joey, let's go get a snack. Joey, come look at the new page I made for you. Joey, I need a new CD burner. Joey, the Knicks still suck. Joey, pretend like Jessica is your real daughter and buy her some stuff, too!'"

"Sweetie, do you really think she's after his money?" Monica asked, concerned.

"I don't know. I _do_ know he's not in love with her." Chandler glanced at Rachel. "He's lonely. He's so desperate to fill the void in his life…he hasn't stopped to question her motives."

The conversation was interrupted when Joey opened the front door. He was carrying a box from the deli around the corner. "I brought sandwiches!" He set the box down on the table and cast a longing glance at Rachel.

"Is Lydia coming too?" Monica didn't look up from her paint chips as she spoke.

"Nah, she has some parent-teacher thing at Jessica's school." His eyes shot nervously to Rachel. "Besides, we don't go _everywhere_ together. It's not like she's my girlfriend or something!" He waved his hands in the air emphatically. "We're not dating. We're not seeing each other. And we are _most definitely_ not sleeping with each other." He stopped, pausing for breath and looking hopefully at Rachel. "We're just friends. That's all we'll ever be."

A surge of happiness over his words lifted Rachel to the clouds. "Let's get the painting started." She led the way to her room.

~*~*~

Ross had just changed into a faded NYU sweatshirt and jeans when his phone rang. 

"Hello?"

"Ross, it's me," Phoebe's voice responded. "I need some help."

"Sure, what is it Pheebs?"

"Are you busy right now?" Her words were stressed with urgency.

"I was just on my way to Monica's to help with painting…but it can wait…"

"Can you borrow her car? I need to leave for Montauk, like - now."

__

Montauk…that's where her birth mother lives, he reminded himself. "Phoebe, what's wrong? Tell me."

"I can't tell you. You're going to have to trust me on this." She paused, fighting tears. "Ross, please take me to Montauk. I have to see my mother."

"Why isn't Mike taking you?" He asked only to satisfy his curiosity. Ross already knew that he would be the one to take her, not Mike or anyone else.

"Mike can't find out about this." She burst into tears. "Please help me."

"Tell me where to meet you." Holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder, he grabbed his jacket and some cash from the dish on his coffee table.

"In front of Dot's." She sniffled loud. "And Ross…"

"What?"

"Don't tell anyone where I'm going."

~*~*~

The phone rang, slicing into Chandler's rendition of "Torn Between Two Lovers, Feelin' Like A Fool". He, Rachel, and Joey had been painting the spare room for almost an hour. The only interruption had been a brief visit from Ross, who'd borrowed the keys to the Porsche for some mysterious errand. Phoebe was a no-show.

Monica's voice drifted into the spare room as she answered the phone. 

"This is his wife."

"Oh, did he? Thanks for calling us. He'll be right down there to pick it up." 

  
Rachel and Joey looked at each other conspiratorially behind Chandler's back as he stepped into the doorway that connected to the living room.

"What was that about?"

"You left your wallet on the checkout counter at the paint store." Monica stood up, stretching. "Since Rachel and Joey have everything under control with the paint, I think I'm going to take a bath while you go down there and pick it up."

Chandler put his paint roller back in its tray and wiped his hands on one of the rags piled on the floor. "Be back in a few minutes," he told Rachel and Joey as he headed for the door. Within seconds, he was gone and Monica was locked inside the bathroom.

~*~*~

Chandler stepped outside the building, still humming "Torn Between Two Lovers" to himself as he turned in the direction of the paint store. He pulled his jacket around him, shivering a little as the cold wind nipped at his face.

The sound of an engine ripped through the relative quiet of the evening. Chandler raised his head, surprised at the sight of Monica's Porsche roaring to a stop in front of Dot's. 

__

What the hell?

His surprise doubled as Phoebe burst through the door of Dot's Spot carrying an overnight bag. She raced to the Porsche, threw open the door of the passenger side, and climbed in next to Ross before he tore out through the street at top speed.

He was sure neither of them had seen him. But what on earth were those two doing, hauling ass in his wife's car, and _together_, no less?

And why couldn't they have just told everyone where they were going? Why all the secrecy?

It was a mystery he intended to solve.

But first he had to go pick up his wallet. 

~*~*~

Rachel sat cross-legged on the floor, idly stirring the baby blue paint in a way that would have appalled Monica. Being left alone with Joey unnerved her. His physical presence overpowered her, sending every square inch of her body into overdrive. She was as uncomfortable as a teenage girl on her first date - and with Joey of all people – the person she had felt the most comfortable with for so many years.

She watched as he refilled his tray with paint. "I have no idea what I'm doing," he said, breaking the silence. "For all I know, there's some special method for paint pouring and this is ass-backwards."

She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, watching the way his hand gripped the roller. "I won't tell if you don't."

"Where have I heard _that_ before?" His mouth twisted ruefully at her as he dragged his roller through the paint.

"That seems to be our thing, doesn't it?" She fumbled for a change of subject. "How's it going with Drake?"

"It's going good…I'll find out tomorrow if I get to present a Soap Opera Digest award."

Rachel gasped. "Do you think you have a good chance?"

He shrugged philosophically. "The producers think so. Estelle will find out tomorrow and give me a call." He put his roller down and turned to her. "You wanna break for a sandwich?"

"Sure." She stood up and looked at him, noticing something. "Sweetie, you've got a big paint splotch on your face."

"Where?" He ran his hand over his face, seeking the unwanted paint. "I'll go to the bathroom and wash it off."

"You can't – Monica's taking a bath, remember?" She took a rag from the pile on the floor and led Joey to the kitchen by the hand. "I'll get it for you."

She sat him down in a kitchen chair before holding the rag under hot tap water. She then walked from the sink to the chair where Joey was seated, standing between his knees. Tilting his face upward, she dabbed at the paint stain on his brow with the hot, damp cloth. 

His warm hand stole around her waist, burning her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt. She sucked in a breath and looked down into his eyes. They were staring up at her, searing her with their heated intensity. 

"Almost got it," she said in a shaky voice, referring to the paint splotch. She moved her hand slowly away from his brow. He caught it with his free hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the inside of her wrist, filling her with molten heat. Her blood rushed to all sorts of interesting places as he worked his lips up the soft skin of her inner arm, giving her a one-way ticket to pleasure.

__

Don't stop, she silently willed him, her knees sinking beneath her. She released a sigh, realizing how long she'd been holding her breath. His other hand was around her waist and he was drawing her onto his lap, assuring that they were face to face.

"Kiss me," she ordered him in a whisper as she placed her hands on the back of his neck.

His lips brushed hers tentatively at first, then with an agonizing fever fueled by countless days of denial and suppression. Her demanding response spurred him on. She drank in the taste of him, the feel of his hair gliding through her fingers, the flawless way their bodies melted together. 

He removed the clip that was holding her hair in an upsweep, setting it free to fall around her shoulders before brushing her hair out of her face in the familiar gesture that never failed to trigger something inside her.

"Couch?" She pulled away to ask him.

"Couch, floor, table…I don't care." He resumed the kiss. His hands were on her rear end, pushing her against him.

Rachel thought fast. "Monica can hear us in here. Let's go back to my room." She grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind her.

Just as her foot crossed the threshold, Chandler opened the front door and let himself in. Rachel let go of Joey's hand and Joey rolled his eyes at her in frustration.

"Did I interrupt something?" Chandler insinuated. "Or do you two always run into empty rooms holding hands and panting?" He reached into the fridge for a soda. "By the way, Joey, nice lip-gloss. You sure coral is the right shade for you?"

Joey sheepishly wiped away the stain of Rachel's lip-gloss he'd acquired during their kisses. Rachel pushed her hair back into its former upsweep, noticing that her hair clip was under the kitchen table. She scurried over to retrieve it as Chandler continued talking.

"You two should know you don't have to hide what's going on from me," he was saying. "But Monica will kill you if you have sex on her couch."

"We weren't gonna," Joey pouted.

"Yes, you were!" Monica yelled from the bathroom.

"No, we weren't!" Joey called to the bathroom door. "We were gonna have sex in the baby's room!"

Rachel closed her eyes and put her hand on her forehead in horror.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go paint now," Joey said in embarrassment, trudging back into the spare room. Rachel followed with Chandler behind her, snickering.

~*~*~

__

She rolls the window down

And she talks over the sound

Of the cars that pass us by

And I don't know why

But she's changed my mind

Would you look at her

She looks at me

She's got me thinking about her constantly

But she don't know how I feel

And as she carries on without a doubt

I wonder if she's figured out

I'm crazy for this girl

Montauk: 5 Miles.

The green sign on the side of the road left no room for interpretation as Evan and Jaron's song played on the radio. They would be arriving in Montauk within minutes, and Ross still had no idea what was propelling Phoebe along this desperate path.

She had withdrawn into some private corner of herself the minute he'd picked her up, a place where no visitors were allowed and no communications were given or received. 

Ross supposed that it was a survival technique she'd developed during her years on the street, this ability to disappear inside herself, shutting out the rest of the human race. He diverted his eyes from the road just long enough to take a mental snapshot of her: long legs twisted pretzel-like beneath her, head tilted to the side and propped against the car window, eyes looking out on the scenic ocean view but seeing nothing.

Even the large crystal ring on her delicate hand suddenly seemed too heavy for someone so fragile.

As the rounded the corner that led them to her mother's beach house, he found himself wishing that he could save her from whatever demon had latched onto her. And not just that, he thought as he glanced across at her again, watching her sigh and close her eyes. He wanted to go back into her past and erase all those years of misery and deprivation and suffering, just as he'd given her a bike and concert tickets and so many other things. He was always seeking a way to make up for what life had denied her.

__

She was the one to hold me  
The night the sky fell down  
And what was I thinking when  
The world didn't end  
Why didn't I know what I know now

"Third house on the left," she mumbled, steeling herself.

Ross turned the car, wishing that she'd tell him her troubles before he had to leave her but knowing that she wouldn't. 

The headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the gravel driveway of Phoebe, Sr.'s house. He eased slowly up the driveway before switching off the ignition.

"I'm gonna go now," she said without looking at him. "My mom will bring me home in a day or two." She grabbed her bag and opened the car door. 

Ross let himself out and ran to her side of the car. "At least let me carry your bag for you and walk you in," he pleaded.

"No." She shook her head decisively. "This is my own mess to clean up." She edged past him and walked slowly up the sidewalk that led to her mother's front door. Ross heaved a sigh as he watched her go. 

Phoebe abruptly turned and dropped her bag on the ground, running back down the sidewalk to the car and throwing her arms around Ross' neck. A salty sea breeze intertwined with the distinctive scent of her trademark essential oil fragrance, wrapping itself around Ross and imprinting his senses with an indelible memory. 

"Thank you," she whispered into his ear. Just as quickly, she fled his arms and raced back to the door, stopping only long enough to pick up the bag she'd dropped on the ground. 

__

Right now  
Face to face  
All my fears  
Pushed aside  
And right now  
I'm ready to spend the rest of my life  
With you

Ross saw Phoebe's mother opening the door, her blonde hair gleaming like a halo against the light from the house. She welcomed her daughter with an embrace before taking her inside the house and closing the door, leaving Ross alone in the dark.

~*~*~

"Morning," Rachel said to Monica and Chandler as she stepped out of the bathroom with a dreamy smile, her hair still damp from the shower.

"Someone woke up happy," Chandler said over his coffee cup from the big chair.

"Either that or she got too many paint fumes," Monica answered, turning to the Lifestyles section of the morning paper.

"It's not paint fumes," Rachel said over her shoulder as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "It's…" she stopped with a smile and sigh of pure bliss.

"Joey," Monica finished for her.

"We _did_ have a pretty amazing moment last night." Rachel curled up on the end of the couch by Monica's slipper clad feet. 

"I'm all for amazing moments," Monica said, reaching over to pat Rachel. "And I'm happy for you. But honey, please – don't have any amazing moments on my white couch, ok?"

Before Rachel could answer, Chandler broke in. "Why didn't you two just go across the hall?"

The simplicity of it all struck Rachel. "Why _didn't_ we just go across the hall?" She smacked her forehead ala Joey.

"I've noticed you two don't do your best thinking when you're together," Monica observed. "Not to mention how all that blood deprivation was challenging for your brains."

"Gotta get a shower so I can get to work on that proposal," Chandler said. "Don't do anything to mess up the couch while I'm gone," he called as he shut the bathroom door.

"Since I have the morning off, you know what I'm going to do?" Rachel asked Monica.

"What?"

"I'm going to write Joey a long, long letter and tell him exactly how I feel."

"Why? You know he doesn't really like to read…"

"Because I know how I really feel about him now. Last night really opened my eyes to it. I'm ready to move forward, if he is."

"I think you already know the answer to that question," Monica smiled.

"It's like all my doubts are gone. It's worth the risks…it's worth fighting Ross, if it comes to that."

"It won't come to that," Monica assured her. "He needed time to adjust to the idea. He'll come around."

"I hope you're right."

"Even though you guys aren't together anymore, a part of him still loves you. He wants you to be happy. And deep down, he loves Joey. I know he misses the friendship they used to have." Monica folded her paper and sat up. "Why don't you just _tell_ Joey what you've decided?"

Rachel shrugged. "The physical stuff with us is so strong that it always gets in the way. But it's not just that…I want to give him time to think it over with no pressure from me. If he feels the same way and decides it's worth the risk, we'll figure out where to go from there." Rachel walked over to the cabinet that doubled as a TV stand. "Do you have any stationary?"

"It's on the left, organized by size, color, and type of paper." Monica's words were rushed with excitement. "To the right of it, I have pens, divided by type and color. Felt tip, ballpoint, calligraphy…"

Rachel selected a few sheets of pink paper with a matching envelope and a black pen before going back to her room. "Thanks, honey," she called to Monica.

"Whatever you do," Monica muttered under her breath, "don't end the letter with the phrase _'does it?'_"

~*~*~

__

Dear Joey,

Rachel crumpled the sheet of paper and tossed it carelessly on the floor beside her bed.

__

My Dearest Joey,

That's better, she told herself, scribbling furiously.

__

…I know that what we have will never happen for either of us again. If we miss the chance to see where this is going, we'll both regret it for the rest of our lives…

She laid the page aside, beginning another. She penned several paragraphs, words of love and commitment flowing from her like a fountain.

__

…I understand how scary it is to break the rules of friendship the way we have. But if we end up with something so much more, won't it be worth the risk?

Several sentences later, she stopped and reread the last thing she'd written.

__

The one thing I'm sure of is that I love you. I know this without a doubt. I believe that you love me just as much. I feel it every time we're together. If nothing has happened to change your mind or your feelings, I want to try again. Let's finish what we started.

She wrote on for an hour, in the end filling four pages with an outpouring of love, devotion, and an entreaty to him to defy the odds and continue what had begun in Barbados. She reread it, satisfied.

She scrawled her closing before signing her name.

__

Take all the time you need. You don't have to say anything right now. When you're ready, you know where to find me. I'll be waiting…remember how much I love you. I'm just sorry I didn't say it sooner.

Rachel

She folded the letter carefully and placed it inside the matching envelope before lovingly writing his name on the outside of it.

She glanced at her clock. She had just enough time to get dressed and leave it in his apartment before he got home from the studio. She didn't want to deliver it in person, she told herself. No, it would be better for him to come home and find it.

The blissful smile returned as she began applying her makeup.

~*~*~

"Going to play post office?" Monica asked from her perch on the couch as Rachel emerged from her room, fully dressed and carrying a pink envelope bearing Joey's name.

Rachel nodded, unable to remove the radiant expression from her face. 

Chandler's laptop was set up on the kitchen table, nearly lost among the stacks of paper that covered the remaining surface. "Rush proposal, got to get it ready to FedEx to Philadelphia by 5:00," he grumbled.

"Wish me luck." Rachel almost sang the words as she habitually took her purse and departed for Joey's apartment.

She reached down to open his door but sounds coming from inside the apartment stopped her. It sounded like the electronic racket of a video game.

__

That's weird, she thought. _He must have left the TV on when he went to the studio._

She shook off an uneasy feeling and pushed the door open.

The minute she stepped inside, she wondered whether or not she was in the correct apartment. 

The scent of oregano, tomatoes and olive oil wafted out like a direct hit from Little Italy. But it wasn't just that. The apartment was clean – furiously clean. Monica clean. The piles of magazines that she and Joey had never managed to organize were neatly compiled in magazine racks beside the entertainment center, which had been set in neat-as-pie order itself. The bar was no longer cluttered with junk mail and pizza boxes. Everything had been sorted into in and out boxes. A vase of peppermint carnations sat in the spot formerly claimed by the pizza box.

The magnets they'd collected over the years were no longer clinging to the refrigerator door. Instead, crayon drawings done by a childish hand decorated every spare inch of its metallic façade.

Rachel's eyes fell on Jessica, who was sprawled out on the floor in front of the entertainment center. In her hands were the controls to an elaborate video game system that Rachel hadn't realized Joey owned. Jessica looked up and spotted Rachel, rooted to the floor in the doorway.

"Mom!" Jessica yelled.

Lydia, perfectly dressed and coifed as usual, appeared from around the corner obscured by the bar. "Rachel," she said in greeting. "Joey's not home yet, but come on in."

Rachel's feet found their way inside the apartment. "Wow," she stammered. "Joey really cleaned up around here." She knew that wasn't the way it had happened, but she wasn't about to admit that to Lydia.

Lydia's throaty laughed bubbled out. "Joey couldn't find his ass in a sack," she said in a caustic tone. "I can't work in that kind of mess, so I did a little organizing for him."

"Work?" Rachel repeated dumbly. 

"Yeah," Lydia said. "Oh, that's right – I bet you haven't seen my new office!" Lydia strode to the corner from which she'd appeared. "Check it out."

Rachel followed her, not fully believing her eyes. In the exact spot where Emma's changing table had stood was a computer desk and swivel chair.

Gone forever was the huge pink satin "E" that had denoted Emma's status as third roommate. In its place hung Lydia's oversized memo board. The desk was replete with laptop, scanner, printer, fax machine, and countless other gadgets that the less technically minded Rachel didn't even recognize.

"Joey said we were spending too much money, having a messenger service constantly running things back and forth between us. And you know how he is…he likes to see everything before I upload it. So he set this up for me." Lydia beamed at Rachel. "Doesn't this kick ass?"

"Yeah, ass is the word I was thinking," Rachel answered. "Is that video game thing new?" She gestured to Jessica.

"Oh, that. Joey thought Jessica should have something to do since she spends so much time here. Isn't he great?"

"Would you mind if I used the bathroom real quick?" Without waiting for Lydia's reply, Rachel let herself into the bathroom and slammed the door, cursing the fact that it still didn't have a working lock.

The bathroom was as immaculate as the rest of the house. Monica herself couldn't have done better. Joey's more utilitarian toiletries had been replaced by scented soap in a pump bottle, dainty guest towels, and a tube of hand lotion.

She hadn't feminized his environment that much in all their years of living together.

A dreadful suspicion shot through Rachel. Without conceding any points to her conscience, she yanked open the door that concealed the storage space under the sink.

Her worst fears were confirmed by what was hidden under there. Lydia was making rapid inroads.

She flushed the toilet and ran the water for a few seconds to cover her tracks before stepping out of the bathroom. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Hugsy no longer resided on the yellow sofa.

__

Stay calm. Hold on to yourself.

Lydia was bent over the oven, examining the contents of a casserole dish. "Joey just loves my lasagna," she cooed to Rachel as she slid it back into the oven.

"You cook for him?"

"Yeah, I'm here so much that I've started throwing something together for him to eat when he gets home from work." She wiped her hands on a dishtowel before neatly folding it. "He's always so hungry when he gets home. I like things to be nice for him. He works really hard."

A pang was working its way through Rachel. Not a pang of loss, but one of self-recrimination. She never gave much thought to Joey's comfort. Had it always been the other way around? Had he met her needs while she gave thought to his only when they presented themselves? The questions hurt too much for her to even begin considering the answers.

"I picked this up for him on the way over," Lydia was saying as she held out a bag from the video store. "Do you think he'll like it? I know you guys lived together for so long, you probably know him better than anyone."

Rachel opened the bag. The latest Vin Diesel movie to be released on DVD was inside.

"Yeah…he'll love it. This is exactly his kind of movie." She handed the bag back to Lydia, shifting the forgotten pink envelope to her other hand.

"You've done a lot for him," Rachel continued. The reality of the situation was rapidly dawning on her.

"He's done a lot for _me_," Lydia answered passionately. "You can't imagine what it's like to have a baby alone, without the father there by your side. Joey stood in for me. I couldn't have survived that day without him."

Rachel nodded. No, she couldn't imagine giving birth without her child's father there, holding her hand.

"It's not just that, either. You should see how he is with Jessica. He's so great with kids."

Rachel's heart ached. "He is. He's wonderful."

"And you can see for yourself how much equipment he's bought for me. Most of my stuff was so outdated – he's brought me up to speed. He's the most generous man I've ever met."

"That's just who he is. He can never say no to a friend," Rachel answered, a dull pain taking up residence inside her.

"So anything I can do to make his life a little easier, a little happier, I'm gonna do it." Lydia tilted her head to the side, studying Rachel's countenance. "He seems sad a lot, and I don't know why." The question hung in the air. Lydia was waiting for Rachel to reveal herself as the cause of Joey's unexplained misery.

"I've got to go," Rachel said as she went for the door. "I need to go pick up my daughter…" It was a lie. Ross had Emma for the rest of the day and the night to come. But she had to get out of that apartment at any cost.

"What's that?" Lydia interrupted, pointing to the enveloped clutched against Rachel's damp palm. "Is that something for Joey?"

"This?" Rachel laughed with forced abandon. "Oh, this…this is nothing." 

She stuffed the envelope inside her purse and disappeared inside Monica's apartment before Lydia could ask any more questions.

~*~*~

Phoebe let herself into Ross' apartment so quietly that he didn't look up from his book until she had shut the door.

"You're back," he said, getting up from the couch to hug her.

She stopped him with a hand. "Don't," she said harshly.

He backed away like a wounded animal. "Is everything ok? What happened in Montauk?"

"I came here to tell you something. I owe you an explanation before I tell the others."

"Do I need to sit down?" He tried to squelch the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach brought on by her ominous tone.

"No, this won't take long." He watched her spine stiffen as she braced herself. "We can't keep doing what we've been doing. It can never happen again."

"You told me that yesterday morning." He was puzzled by the insistence in her voice. "Pheebs, come on…all we did was kiss a few times."

"It was a terrible mistake. It can't happen again. You've got to put any thoughts of something happening between us out of your mind, ok?"

"You keep saying that, so why am I the one you call when you need help? Why is it always us, supporting each other when the rest of them are too involved with their own lives?"

"Don't make this worse than it has to be," she said, softening a little. "I don't want to hurt you, Ross. Just accept that this is the hand we've been dealt and we've got to play it."

She turned to walk out. He intercepted her before she reached the door.

"What happened in Montauk? Is this about Mike? If he hurt you –"

"Mike did _nothing_ wrong. But it's safe to say that he and I are probably over."

"Then – then _what_?" He was turning up the volume on his words. "Just tell me what happened and why there's no chance for us."

"Because there isn't! You have to accept that!"

"Is it because of Rachel?"

"You know, Ross, not everything in this life is about you and Rachel. I know that comes as a shock to you."

"Just answer me. Why are you shutting me out of your life?"

"Because I have to!" She raised her voice to match his.

"That's not good enough. I want a real answer."

"That's the only answer I have!"

"Don't lie about this. Don't you feel anything for me?"

"It doesn't matter what I feel!"

"It matters to me!"

"This is bigger than the two of us."

"Nothing is too big for us to handle. Just tell me why!"

"Because I'm trapped!"

"Trapped? Why are you trapped?"

"Because I'm pregnant!"

~*~*~

Chandler was pushing the papers around on the table, frustrated to the boiling point when Rachel returned from her encounter with Lydia. He glanced up briefly, nodding an acknowledgement to her before returning to his work.

"Where's Monica?" Rachel looked at the empty couch.

"Taking a nap in our room," Chandler answered without looking up from his computer. "I don't guess you'd run down to the newsstand and buy me a pack of cigarettes?"

"Why do you need cigarettes?" She took a cold bottle of water from the fridge and pressed it against her aching head.

"I might as well start smoking again and enjoy my final hours on earth."

"Ok, spill it. Keep my mind off my own disaster."

"Because this proposal has to be sent to our offices in Philadephia and L.A., plus I have to have a copy for the head of my department. Too much to do and no time to do it."

"It looks like you have plenty of paper there," she commented, turning the bottle over and seeking a cold spot for her head.

"Plenty of paper and not enough copies. No time to make copies and get this to the FedEx drop box on time." He rubbed his furrowed brow with his hand. "Now, about those cigarettes."

"Don't be silly. Give me the stuff you need copied and I'll do it for you." She tucked the water bottle inside her purse and walked over to the table to get his papers.

"I can't ask you to do that, I know that place is nothing but a bad memory reference for you."

It was true. She still averted her eyes when she passed the copy store. But it was time to put that ghost to rest, she reasoned.

"Come on, Chandler. Chloe wasn't the most stable person – what are the odds that she still works there?"

Chandler wrestled with himself, the time sensitive nature of his project against his reluctance to send Rachel back to the scene of the crime.

"I can handle it. Let me help you with this," she said in her most persuasive tone.

He relented. "All right," he said with a sigh of relief as he gathered his papers into a stack and placed them inside a folder. "Three copies, letter size paper." He pulled a $20.00 out of his pocket and handed it to her. "And we don't tell Monica about this."

"I'll be fine," she assured him as she left. _Chloe is the least of my problems,_ she added to herself as she passed the door to apartment #19 where Joey's new life was apparently in progress…a life without her.

~*~*~

Rachel took her place in line at the copy store, pushing off the inevitable chill that the very sight of the building always brought to her. Her mind rotated over the letter in her purse, Lydia's determination to be the perfect homemaker for Joey, and her own bitter failings to give to him what he'd always given to her.

__

Lydia can make him happy. All I've done is break his heart, time and time again. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't look at the clerk in front of her.

"Three copies of each, please – letter size." She shoved the folder across the counter, too blinded by her mental pain to take in her surroundings.

"Aren't you Ross' girlfriend?" The female voice addressing her was friendly but shy, hesitant.

Rachel looked up, seeing the impossible. Chloe was standing on the other side of the counter.

Barely covered by a black top that looked as if it was made from spider webs, Chloe sported a shock of hot pink hair that would have made Kelly Osbourne proud. Her face was adorned with more jewelry than Rachel wore on her entire person. A ring protruded from her left eyebrow, leading to a diamond stud in her nostril and another stud in her upper lip. Her eyes were lined with dramatic black kohl and shaded with at least 4 colors.

Chloe stretched a hand out to retrieve the folder containing Chandler's papers, her black glitter nail polish sparkling under the florescent light. "Or not," Chloe said, answering her own question.

Rachel realized that she was staring at Chloe. "I was – I used to be," she stammered, unable to recover from the shock of actually coming face to face with the woman who had torpedoed her relationship with Ross.

The sickening sense of betrayal wasn't hitting Rachel in the way she'd always envisioned when she thought of this moment. She scanned her feelings, detecting only regret and remorse that this girl who was sorting through a folder of papers had been the source of their undoing.

__

Why? Was she worth it to him? Rachel asked herself for the ten thousandth time, coming up with the usual blank space where an answer should be.

"Didn't you guys have a baby?" Chloe asked before looking over her shoulder to the back room of the store. "Jimmy!" she shouted, summoning a tall, lanky guy with a ponytail who took the folder from Chloe's hands with a smile. "Three, letter size," she informed him before turning her attention back to Rachel.

Rachel bit back her urge to tell Chloe that it was none of her business and answered instead with a curt "yes."

"I'm so happy for you guys," Chloe said, flashing Rachel a thumbs-up sign. "You two belong together. He loves you so much…it's really incredible."

"Ross and I haven't been together in years," she found herself saying. _And you're the reason why,_ she thought.

"I just mean, that night that I stayed with him, he told me how much he loved you over and over. I've never seen anyone with so much…" Chloe closed her eyes dreamily, remembering. "Passion," she finished.

The phone on the counter behind Chloe was ringing. "Just a sec," she apologized to Rachel, stepping back to answer it.

Chloe, the perennial party girl, Rachel thought acidly. Chloe, who was so free with her body and her sexuality. Chloe, who was "different" in bed. Rachel glanced up and down Chloe's petite form, contrasting herself against the pixie-like girl. Chloe was dressed in black from head to toe. Chloe was…Rachel blinked and looked again. Chloe was…

Pregnant.

As she curled her shoulder up to hold the phone, Chloe rested one hand on her bulging abdomen in the unconscious but universal gesture of all expectant mothers. It hadn't been obvious when she was standing against the counter, but now that she'd stepped a short distance away, it was beyond question.

Rachel felt empathy creeping up against her will. She looked at Chloe's feet, snugly encased in a pair of Doc Marten boots. _She must be on her feet all day,_ she thought, remembering the swollen ankles and sore feet of advanced pregnancy.

Rachel shook her head rapidly, bidding the sneaking sympathy for Chloe to leave immediately. This woman had cost her so much; she deserved no compassion.

__

When did Hot Topic start making maternity clothes, Rachel thought with more than a trace of hostility.

Chloe hung up the phone and smiled brightly at Rachel. "Sorry about that," she said as she leaned on the counter. "Tell me about you and Ross. How did it work out?"

Words flew out of Rachel's mouth before she had time to consider them. "It _didn't_ work out, because he slept with someone else." Her withering scorn was shocking, even to herself.

"That doesn't sound like Ross," Chloe said in disbelief. "Who'd he cheat with?"

"With you!" Rachel sputtered. "That night you just reminded me of, with all of his _passion_ for me – while he was going at it with you like two caged monkeys." Jimmy emerged from the back room and handed Chandler's folder back to Chloe. "All done, babe," he said before vanishing again.

"Is _that_ what you think happened? What did he tell you?" Chloe looked around at the line of customers behind Rachel who were perking up their ears with interest. 

"Cover for me," Chloe barked to the balding man beside her. "Come with me," she commanded Rachel, stepping out from behind the counter and leading the way to a door marked "Employees Only".

Chloe closed the door behind them as Rachel speaking. "I don't know what you think you can say that can change what happened."

"I'll start at the beginning," Chloe said patiently. "Ross told you about that night we spent together, right?"

"No. He didn't have the courage to tell me himself. I had to find out from Gunther." Rachel crossed her arms in front of her, repelled at being closed in a room with Chloe.

"What did Gunther tell you?"

"That you and Ross slept together. He didn't get into specific details," she spat.

Chloe shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Let me rephrase that. Did Gunther tell you that I had sex with Ross?"

"That was the general idea." Rachel said. "Then I confronted Ross and he admitted it." Chloe's face held such an expression of disbelief that curiosity began to deflate Rachel's anger.

"He couldn't admit to something that never happened." Chloe exhaled slowly and sat down on a cardboard box filled with copy paper. "Damn. I knew he was drunk. I didn't know he was _that_ drunk."

"What do you mean, it never happened? There was a trail of people that carried the story from you to that – that Isaac guy, to Phoebe's coworker to Gunther to me. Everyone knew that it happened, and the story originated with you…so either you were lying then or you're lying now." Rachel tried for a calming breath and failed. "And my money is on the side of 'lying now'."

"Give me a few minutes to explain, then you'll understand perfectly." Chloe placed her hand on her pregnant belly again. "Ross and I hooked up at the party that night. He told me about his break-up with you. He was drinking hard."

Rachel nodded. That much she knew to be true.

"I was different back then. I had low self-esteem…I slept with married men, men who were too drunk to remember me the next morning…pretty much any guy who would notice me. Isaac and I were having this on and off again thing, and that didn't help."

Again the unwanted empathy tugged at Rachel. 

"Ross was so sweet, you know? So sensitive…anyway, we went back to his place and he kept drinking, and talking about you. How much he loved you, how he couldn't face life without you. And yeah, things started happening…"

Rachel swallowed hard, reliving every minute of that fateful night as Chloe told her story.

"We ended up in bed, but he was so drunk that he didn't know who I was. All he could do was cry over you." Chloe cleared her throat and looked away. "I'm sure you know that when guys get to a certain level of intoxication, _stuff_ quits working. Right?"

"Right," Rachel said, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"I don't think anything would have worked, but we didn't even try. So yeah, we were in bed, and yeah, the clothes were off, but I just hugged him and let him cry about you until he passed out."

The entire history of Rachel's life was rewriting itself before her eyes, second by second.

"The next morning, I took a shower and talked about stupid stuff like getting a puppy. I've woken up with a lot of guys who didn't remember bringing me home with them. It was business as usual for me."

The tears were coming faster. Chloe handed Rachel a box of tissues from the supply shelf before continuing.

"Then you called Ross and said you were coming over. I made a beeline for the door. Long story short, I told Issac that I _spent the night_ with Ross. I never said that I had sex with him, because I didn't…and I had no idea until you told me out there that Ross thought something had happened. I just assumed he knew. He passed out before we could do anything." Chloe rumpled her pink hair with a ringed hand. "I don't think he _wanted_ to do anything with me. He just wanted someone to listen to him."

Rachel sniffled and took another tissue. "Then why did everyone else think that something _did_ happen?"

Chloe smiled wanly. "Maybe I wanted to make Issac a little jealous. Maybe I wasn't as clear about things as I could have been." She shrugged and looked down at the bulge that was her unborn baby. "Maybe I was young and stupid and didn't realize the havoc I would cause by letting people come to their own conclusions."

"I've hated you for so long," Rachel admitted through her tears. "I blamed you…"

"I envied you," Chloe said simply. "You had the kind of love that I thought I'd never find." Chloe's eyes began to water, threatening to smudge her ornate eye liner. "I was so hung up on Isaac back then, I didn't know which way was up."

"What happened with him?" Rachel was overwhelmed with remorse for her hatred of Chloe. "Is he the father of your baby?"

"Isaac?" Chloe laughed. "No way. He and I weren't built to last. There was always something there...we were like fire and ice, you know? We couldn't live with each other and we couldn't live without each other. It was always a struggle."

Rachel nodded. She knew something about that.

"We'd get together and then we'd break up, and rip each other to pieces every time before starting the cycle all over again. It was too passionate, too intense – we almost destroyed each other." Chloe put her hands over her eyes, remembering. 

"What happened next?" Rachel asked, drying the rest of her tears.

"Jimmy happened next. We'd worked together here for years and we were best buddies…we'd drink beer and eat pizza and have fun together…but I never thought of him _that_ way because I couldn't see past Issac." Chloe hopped off the box and walked over to the mini fridge in the corner of the supply room, taking out a can of soda for herself and one for Rachel. 

"Then one night when we were locking up, he leaned over and kissed me. I have to admit, I was pretty shocked…I was angry because he was messing up this perfect friendship of ours…but he grew on me. It's like…we bring out the best in each other. I'm peaceful when I'm with him. It's easy." Chloe took a sip of her soda and continued. "When we're together, it feels like…home." She laughed at herself. "Sounds silly, huh? I don't have to try so hard with Jimmy. It just…fits."

"Is he the father?" Rachel asked, thinking to herself that it didn't sound silly. Not at all.

"Yeah. It couldn't have worked out another way." She smiled and stood up. "Are you gonna be ok?"

Rachel nodded. "I have a lot to think about." She got her purse and Chandler's folder, turning to give Chloe an impulsive hug. "Good luck with Jimmy."

~*~*~

The Rachel Green who walked out of the copy store was not the same one who had walked in a short time before. Everything she knew or thought she'd known was changing, evolving so quickly that her mind raced to process it.

She pushed her way through the crowd, taking a seat on an empty stoop.

It had all been a mistake, a misunderstanding. For a drunken lapse of judgement and a few carelessly misinterpreted words, she and Ross had lost everything that mattered.

It was a horrific price to pay.

Rachel faced the facts of her life like an accountant reviewing numbers. If not for this one calamity, she and Ross would have stayed together. There would have been no Bonnie, no Emily, and no second divorce. No alcohol induced wedding in Vegas and no third divorce. There would have been no 'Mental Geller'. Ross would have kept his job and his reputation and his sanity.

__

If we'd both known the truth about what happened that night, Ross and I would probably be married right now. She saw it with mind-bending clarity.

And now, now there was Emma. And it was seven years later, and countless draughts of water had passed under the bridge of Ross and Rachel, dividing them so much that reconciliation had ceased to be an option. The staggering heartbreak, the anger, everything they'd put each other through – it was all over nothing.

Standing starkly against the backdrop was the factor that Rachel couldn't ignore. She was in love with someone else. The letter declaring her feelings for him was safely hidden away in her purse.

She had her answer at last…seven years too late.

~*~*~

****

To Be Continued!

A/N: Honestly, did you guys see any of that coming? I'm trying to keep it surprising as we head rapidly to the climax of the action and begin the resolution after the next two chapters. And yes, Chloe's changed her look since we last saw her.

As for Phoebe's shocking news, it may not be what you think it is. I'll explain more in the next chapter. And ten points for the first reader who correctly guesses what Lydia was keeping under Joey's bathroom sink…

If you enjoy this story at all, this is the time to leave a review for yours truly. It would be greatly appreciated!


	13. A Musical Interlude

I know this is cheating and we're not supposed to do this, but I need some reader feedback in a bad way and I can't continue crafting the ending of this story until I hear from you guys on this issue.** I posted the question in my bio section.** I welcome your answers via email. Please don't review this chapter, since it's basically a non-chapter. To cover my a**, I'm calling it a "musical interlude." This is an old skool song by Atlantic Star, which fits what will be happening in the next chapter.

Thanks, and I look forward to hearing from you guys!

~*~*~

It's a fragile situation

It could fall apart at any time

And none would be the wiser

Except you and I

It seems that we've stopped talking

Like we're afraid to disagree

And after all we've been through

Can we still be that naïve?

If your heart isn't in it

Why can't you tell me so?

If my heart wasn't in it

I'd have gone long ago

If your heart isn't in it

Why keep me hangin' on?

Just tell me and I'll be gone 

From your life

You treat me like a stranger

As if I wasn't there

Oh, baby, I've waited for a miracle

To make you show that you care

If your heart isn't in it

Why can't you tell me so?

If my heart wasn't in it

I'd have gone long ago

If your heart isn't in it

Why keep me hangin' on?

Just tell me and I'll be gone 

From your life

If your heart isn't in it

Why can't you tell me so?

I can't go through the motions

I have to know

If your heart isn't in it

Why can't you tell me so?

I can't go to the limit

I have to know

If your heart...

Oh, can't you tell me so?

I have to know

If your heart isn't in it

Why keep me hangin' on?

Just tell me and I'll be gone

Don't keep me hangin' on 

For dear life


	14. Weak

****

Past & Present

Chapter 11: Weak

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters. If I did, things would obviously be a lot better.

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: First of all, this story is now rated R – for a reason!

I might as well call the next two chapters "TOW The Fanfic Writer Pushes The Envelope", because that's certainly what I did.

We've got it all in the next two chapters: Deception. Betrayal. Self –sacrifice. Brazilian Waxes. A Steamy Shower Scene. Sex Games. Drunkenness. Fighting. Crab Cakes. 

Due to the overwhelming wish of my readers that I "write hot" in this story, and that being my inclination anyway, you have a small sample of that in both chapters. I didn't exactly burn up the page, but I definitely got out the matches. It's perfectly in line with the two main character's state of mind at this point in the story, so I don't feel that it's gratuitous at all. Whether or not the readers enjoy it is another thing. I also feel that it stays within the boundaries of an R rating and does not cross the line into NC-17. If you disagree please let me know.

Incidentally, regarding the Phoebe subplot – my mother researches DNA and human genetics. I called her in to "consult" for this chapter. A same-day result fetal paternity test does in fact cost $900.00.

You were warned that this story would take a darker, more dramatic turn before it got better. I'm still going with that plan. If the slightly steamier approach is well received, it will also be maintained when it's appropriate for the story.

These two chapters took a lot out of me. They've been through numerous revisions. I'll be posting extensive story notes in my bio section for both chapters sometime soon. If they're not up when you read this, check back again later – the story notes will clarify a few points and explain how I arrived at certain conclusions. Also, that's where I post between-chapter updates and things of interest, in case you were wondering.

I took the title of this chapter from an old Belinda Carlisle song – "I Get Weak". I'm 29 and remember the 80's a little too well, I think, but it captures how Rachel is feeling in this chapter perfectly.

As always, reader feedback is appreciated and welcome, especially regarding the slightly hotter direction I chose for these chapters.

****

Finally: this chapter is dedicated to Kristine, who held my virtual hand during endless revisions and self-doubt; to Ashleigh, who inspired me to push the envelope with her own brilliant writing; and to Irene, for her unfailing support and banner-making abilities.

Read, review, and enjoy!

~*~*~

Rachel sat alone on the stoop for what seemed like an eternity. The sun began to set, the endless parade of taxis turned on their headlights, and the first stars appeared in the sky. Still, she sat there, thoughts turning like a relentless wheel in her mind.

One fact stood out above all others: Ross had shouldered the blame of a mistake he'd never made. For years, Chloe had been an albatross between them. Rachel had withheld forgiveness for what had happened, and Ross had gone from contrite to defensive to angry over the years. It had cost them not only their relationship, but had almost destroyed their friendship.

He had been through the marriages and divorces, the pointless relationships, the mental breakdown – countless setbacks for someone who had shown so much promise.

__

All for a mistake, Rachel thought, her heart aching, _for something that never even happened._

In her memory, she saw herself in Monica's apartment, Ross down on his knees before her. He had begged her for another chance as they both struggled with tears. She hadn't given it to him.

All this time, he had believed in his guilt as much as she had. And it had nearly ruined his life.

A wind blew past Rachel, threatening to scatter Chandler's papers and bringing her back to reality. She gathered her things and made her way back to Monica's. 

With every footstep, a thought resounded in her mind.

__

I owe it to him to let him have his family. I owe it to him to let him have his family.

He had lost so much because of her inability to get past this. Didn't she owe him that much? 

As she rounded the corner, she caught the sight of the pink envelope containing her letter to Joey, peeking out the top of her purse like a dream you can't forget.

Even when you know you shouldn't remember it.

~*~*~

"Pregnant?" Ross sat down on his couch with a thud. "Oh my God…Pheebs…" He sought for the thing to say to fix this but no words could be found.

"Yeah, super fertile. That's me." A hint of her usual humor tinted her voice again for the moment. "Hopefully this time it'll be _one_ baby, not a whole litter."

"But you just said –" Ross stopped, his mind trying to arrange the puzzle pieces into a cohesive whole. "You just said that it was _over_ with you and Mike. You're telling me that he broke it off with you because of this baby?"

"He doesn't know about the baby yet." Phoebe sat down at the opposite end of the couch and stared out the window into Monica's apartment where Chandler could be seen furiously typing away on his laptop.

"What? Phoebe, you've got to tell him. He'll work this out with you –"

"It's not that simple." She siphoned self-control from some inner reservoir. "Don't you understand what's happened here?"

Ross simply shook his head no. 

"Then I'll make it perfectly clear." Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears but her expression betrayed nothing. "There's at least a 50% chance that this is David's baby."

Ross felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. Now her distress, her urgent escape to Montauk, everything suddenly fell into place.

"Now you know why this is the worst mess of my life," she continued. "I sent David away so I could be with Mike. I had no idea…" She couldn't finish her sentence.

The frost covering her emotions dissipated. She put her head on Ross' shoulder and cried.

~*~*~

"Are you going to tell me what happened with Joey or are you going to make me pry it out of you?"

Rachel looked up to see Monica in the door of her room, a pint of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other.

"This is the good stuff," Monica continued as she took a seat beside Rachel on the Aerobed. "None of that fat-free crap." She handed Rachel the spoon. "Heartbreak ice cream."

Rachel took the pint of Ben & Jerry's with a grateful smile and dug in.

"Did you leave the letter for him?" Monica's blue eyes seemed to see everything. Rachel knew she had to admit to some secret, even though she wasn't ready to tell anyone about Chloe's revelation.

"Lydia has the place staked out," she sighed and scooped out a huge bite of Cherry Garcia. "I didn't leave the letter. It's still in my purse."

Monica curled up on the bed and got comfortable. "Why not?"

"Because…I don't know how to say it, exactly…." _Because Lydia treats him better than I ever did. Because Lydia can give him a real commitment and I can't. Because I care about him too much to put him through any more of my mess with Ross. Because I owe Ross another chance._

Monica was still waiting for an answer. Rachel shrugged and tried to sound more reasonable than she felt.

"Because he and I aren't going to be able to work this out. It's better for him if he doesn't know how much I've fallen for him." She jabbed the spoon into the ice cream and put the carton on the floor. 

Monica didn't give advice. She didn't criticize or make suggestions. She simply gave her best friend a much-needed hug.

~*~*~

"How could this be David's baby?" Ross held Phoebe's hand in his, overcome with sadness. For one of the few times in his life, he was feeling someone else's pain as if it were his own.

"We've only been back from Barbados, like, what – not quite a month? You know he went there with me…things happened before Mike showed up. We got a room with a mirror on the ceiling…"

Ross stopped her. "Ok – _don't_ need that mental image."

Phoebe stood up and walked to the window, watching the crowded street below. "I've been so irregular since the triplets were born…invasive fertility procedures can do that to you. I didn't even realize that I was late."

"Are you sure you're –" 

"I'm sure. I saw my doctor this morning."

"But how can you know that David is involved? Maybe it's Mike's baby – Mike will help you raise it…"

"The doctor and I did a little of what your sister likes to call 'period math'. It could be either of them. But I keep getting this full-on psychic vibe that this is David's baby." She crossed her arms in front of herself, assuming an angry posture. "As for Mike, I'm so sure Mr. I'm-So-Afraid-Of-Commitment is going to jump through rings of fire when he finds out I'm having a baby." She rolled her eyes. "Especially if it's not _his_ baby."

"There are tests, you know – I was reading about one the other day in 'The Scientific American' – early stage fetal paternity tests that only require a blood sample from the mother and the alleged father. You could get a sample from David and leave Mike out of it for now. Then if David is eliminated as the father, you'll know it's Mike's baby." Ross started shuffling through the magazines on his coffee table to locate the article for her.

"Down, Science Boy. I'm two steps ahead of you on that." Phoebe took her seat on the couch again. "My doctor set me up at some DNA testing place. I talked to David this morning and he already gave his blood sample."

Ross treaded carefully with his next question. "Did you give yours yet?"

She rubbed her eyes like a tired little girl. "I don't want to face this. David wanted to go with me, but I don't want either he or Mike involved until I know for sure…"

Ross took her hand again. "You don't have to go it alone. I'll take you, I'll wait with you for the results, I'll even hold your hand while they get out the needle."

Phoebe was impressed. "You'd do that for me? I know how you feel about needles."

He squeezed her hand and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "I'll be with you every step of the way. No matter who the father of this baby turns out to be, you'll have me for your backup."

Phoebe was quiet, considering. Finally she leaned her head on Ross' shoulder and whispered in his ear.

"Her name is Roxanne."

She pulled back and smiled.

"How do you know it's a her?"

"Because she's already talking to me. She told me that she's a girl and she wants to be named after you."

He didn't need to be asked why the name Roxanne had a connection with him. He didn't stop to analyze why he was able to accept her conviction that a three-week old embryo was speaking to her. When Phoebe said things like that, you believed her, even when you'd have someone else put away for saying the same thing.

"Come on. I'll take you and Roxanne to the testing center and we'll find out, ok?" He stood up and offered her his hand.

She took his hand and rose to her feet, looking pale and terrified.

"Can't we go see my psychic instead? You know, she's pretty good with this kind of thing – she can tell us who the father is."

Ross tilted his head to the side and looked at her.

"Yeah, the clinic is on the East 83rd." She followed Ross out the door.

~*~*~

"You didn't have to do that for me, you know."

Ross looked away from the chart about human DNA hanging from the wall of the examining room. "I wanted to do it." He shrugged, embarrassed by her gratitude for what was such a small thing to him.

"If you hadn't given them a check to cover it, I couldn't have asked for the expedited results. I'd have to go home and sit by the phone, waiting to find out."

"It really was no big thing." This much was true. $900.00 was not a huge sum of money for him, and if it bought her some peace of mind, it was worth it.

Phoebe scooted off the table, wrinkling the thin paper covering as she went. She crossed the room to the spot where Ross sat in a hard chair covered with ugly brown upholstery and bent down to put her arms around his neck. "You're my hero," she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Ms. Buffay?" The nurse poked her head through the door.

Phoebe let go of Ross and stood up, instantly on alert. "Yes?"

"I have your results." The nurse ambled in, closing the door behind her. Ross marveled at the calm with which this woman handled the situation, casually dispensing words that would change someone's life forever.

Phoebe clutched Ross' hand. "And?"

The nurse flipped open the chart and looked at the data for seconds that seemed like hours. 

"It's a match."

Phoebe went cold. "A match?"

The nurse glanced over the chart again and flipped it shut. "The fetal DNA is a match for the specimen provided by the paternity sample. It's one in several million. You have the father correctly identified."

Ross felt as if he'd fallen through an elevator shaft. 

"We have to release the results to the father," the nurse continued. "We have his contact information on record."

"Please," Phoebe pleaded, "let me tell him myself."

The nurse nodded. "Is there anything else you need?" She was brusque, efficient.

"No…I'm good." The nurse turned to leave the room, then stopped and opened the chart again.

"Did you want to know the sex of the baby? I have the information right here – no extra cost, we include that determination in every test we conduct…"

"I already know," Phoebe sounded like herself again for an instant. "But you can confirm it for me."

The nurse cracked a smile like a jack-o-lantern. "You're having a girl. Congratulations." She nodded a perfunctory goodbye and left.

Ross didn't know what to say. He only knew that he had to say _something_.

"Pheebs – I'm so sorry – "

"Don't be." She tore her hand away from him and got her purse and coat. "I won't be alone during this."

"No, you won't be." He was emphatic as he helped her into her coat. "I'll be with you – I'll get you through this. We'll go to Lamaze classes, we'll get baby furniture…this could actually be fun for us."

She whipped around and faced him. "No, Ross – don't do this."

His face held an expression of surprise. "Don't do _what_?"

"Don't make plans for us. There's something you should know."

Ross swallowed hard. "What is it?"

Her eyes were like ice over a churning river. "David and I made a deal when we talked this morning."

If there was a faster drop than falling down an elevator shaft, Ross had just discovered it.

"He promised me that this baby wouldn't grow up the way I did – not knowing my real mother, no father, orphaned at fourteen."

Ross nodded, not sure where she was going with this. 

"And I promised him that I'd never cut him out of this baby's life, if he turned out to be the father…which he is." She paused for several heartbeats.

"I promised David that I'd marry him."

~*~*~

Three days had gone by since Phoebe's news became public knowledge. With David's microscopic diamond on her left hand, she'd told them all – except Ross, who was keeping to himself that week. One morning in Central Perk, she gave them the minimum information: she and David were expecting a baby girl and were planning to be married in one month.

Mike hadn't taken the news well. He'd placed several late night calls to Rachel, an odd sort of camaraderie springing up between them as they compared notes on their mutual difficulties. But he was able to admit that, despite his love for Phoebe, he wasn't ready for fatherhood. His previous marriage had been so difficult that he couldn't consider the possibility of starting another marriage with a baby on the way…a baby that wasn't his.

Four days later, Ross brought Emma over to stay with Rachel. Chandler was waiting, ready to pounce. As soon as Rachel and Monica were busy with Emma, Chandler dragged Ross out to the balcony.

"Where have you been?" Chandler began the interrogation.

"Busy." Ross sat down on the ledge. "Doing stuff. You know."

"I guess you heard about Phoebe…" 

Ross cut him off. "Yeah. I heard."

"Did that have anything to do with you two sneaking away in Monica's car last weekend?" Chandler peered at Ross, ready to detect the smallest deception.

"You might say that." Ross stood up, ready to go back into the apartment and evade the issue.

"Hey, not so fast." Chandler pulled him back from the window. "You can't run off with Phoebe and not explain what's going on."

Ross turned and leaned against the wall. He wanted to tell someone. Wouldn't it be a relief to finally unburden himself?

"If I tell you…you have to promise – no, _swear _– swear that you won't tell Monica."

Chandler's eyes popped. This must be _huge_. "I swear."

"Ok." Ross walked back to the ledge and propped his elbows on it, leaning over to gaze at the view below. "Lately, I've sort of had…feelings…" He took a deep breath and chose his words carefully. "Thoughts…about Phoebe."

Chandler didn't answer. Instead he began digging through a small bag of charcoal briquettes and unearthed an ancient pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"Look, man, there's no need to start smoking again over this." Ross stared, alarmed as Chandler lit one up and took a long drag.

"Ha! You're not the one caught in the middle of this, _again_."

"Again? What do you mean, again?"

"No no no no. No side-stepping. You answer this first. How does she feel about you?"

Ross sighed pitifully. "I would guess by the ring on her finger - not very strongly."

"Does she know?" Chandler walked over to the ledge and tapped some ash away.

"She knows." Ross watched Chandler smoke for a few seconds, letting a lull fall between them. The rest of the story was weighing on him. He wanted to get it all out to someone. _If you're gonna come clean, do it all the way,_ he told himself. "There's something else…"

"Oh, God…what?"

Ross shoved his hands into his coat pockets and stared at the concrete floor. "We sort of…kissed."

Chandler almost dropped his cigarette on Gunther who was walking through the street below. "You _what_?"

"We kissed a couple of times."

"A _couple_ of times? Yeah, that's not wrong. That's not wrong at all! Since it only happened _more than once_!"

"Come on, Chandler, what do you want me to say? That I'm sorry? Because I'm not, ok?"

Chandler stubbed out his cigarette and covered his eyes with his hands. "Make it stop…I can't watch this."

"Dramatic, much?"

"Look, you didn't live through the whole Joey loves Rachel saga the way I did. You only got in on the tail end of that fiasco. I can't live through this a second time." He tapped another cigarette out of the pack and lit up. "You've got a thing for your pregnant friend who's engaged to someone else. Yeah, that is _so_ not Joey and Rachel all over again." He blew a cloud of smoke at Ross. "Hideously Inappropriate 2: This time, it's personal."

"You can stop making a big thing out of this. It's not like anything is ever going to _happen_ with us. I mean, the baby and David pretty much rule that out."

"That's what Joey thought too." Chandler stepped around Ross, taking a quick look in the window to make sure Monica was out of earshot. "This is so wrong, Ross."

Ross fell back on an old argument. "Dude, you slept with my sister."

Chandler threw his hands out in a dramatic gesture. "I _married_ your sister, and, last time I checked, Monica wasn't pregnant with David's baby!" Chandler shook his head in disbelief. "Besides, it's _Phoebe_! Dude, we don't kiss Phoebe. We don't picture Phoebe naked –"

"Maybe _you_ don't," Ross interjected.

"We don't even have sex dreams about Phoebe unless we accidentally caught one Ursula's movies on cable the night before!" Chandler put out his cigarette and returned the pack and lighter to their hiding place. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go take a shower and use an entire bottle of mouthwash." 

~*~*~

As Chandler took his smoke banishing shower and Monica took a nap, Ross pulled Rachel aside for a moment. "I need to talk to you about something." He settled down on the white couch as she and Emma took a seat beside him.

"What is it?" She handed Emma a bottle of apple juice, hiding her face from Ross lest he see the secret about Chloe written all over it.

"I talked to my grandma this morning."

"Oh, the one in Florida?"

"Yeah…the other one is kind of dead." 

Rachel nodded, embarrassed. Ross picked up where he'd left off. "Anyway, she had an interesting suggestion."

Rachel looked at him, intrigued. "Do tell."

"She hasn't seen Ben since he was a baby…and she's never seen Emma. I have some vacation time coming, and my TA can handle almost everything for five days or so."

Rachel knew what was next.

"I was thinking…since Monica got the go ahead to get back on her feet a little…I was thinking we might take both of the kids down to Florida and visit grandma for five days or so."

This was her chance. Rachel saw it as if it had been preordained. Five days away from everyone and everything she knew. She'd work up the courage to tell Ross the truth about Chloe. She'd find out if there were anything left of their relationship that could be salvaged. And she could begin to reconcile herself to life without Joey.

She drew a resigned breath. "When do you want to leave?"

"I was thinking Saturday."

"But – that's only three days from now!"

"I know…I just…" He stopped himself before he said too much. "I need to get away for a while."

She didn't press the issue, having too many of her own reasons for getting away. "I'll start packing tonight."

~*~*~

Rachel began her vacation the next day with an appointment at the spa. She got her hair cut and highlighted, a facial, a manicure, a pedicure, and in a fit of daring aided by Ibuprofen, got a Brazilian wax. She followed her morning at the spa with an afternoon of shopping, trying to lose herself in her favorite form of therapy.

When she walked in the door to Monica's apartment loaded down with shopping bags, she was surprised to see David seated next to Phoebe on the couch, chatting with Monica and Chandler like an old friend.

"Vacation clothes?" Phoebe asked.

"Yeah, just a few things for the trip." Rachel set the bags on the floor.

Monica smiled eagerly. "Show us. It's going to be a _long_ time before Phoebe and I can go shopping for bikinis again." She craned her neck to look at one of the shopping bags. "Or at Victoria's Secret, for that matter."

"They don't make maternity clothes?" Chandler was crestfallen. Monica and Phoebe gave him a chastising stare. "I'm just sayin'…."

Rachel held up one of the four bikinis she'd purchased. "Not easy to find these in New York this time of year."

"What's in the bag from Victoria's?" Phoebe tried to peek inside the bag before Rachel snatched it away. 

"It's underwear. Why is everyone so interested in my underwear today?" She didn't want anyone to know that she'd gone on a lingerie shopping binge. It seemed everything in the store was something that Joey would love or something she'd want to wear for him just to see his exaggerated teenage boy reaction to it. She couldn't resist buying some of it. _Even though I'm the only one who will ever see most of it,_ she added to herself. 

The others saw unhappiness drifting over her face like clouds covering the sun. David stuttered in helpfully.

"You look –you look, well, quite stunning. It must be the new highlights, but I must say, uh, well, you are the very picture of pulchritude, dear."

Rachel saw the sincerity underneath his awkward words. "Thank you." She rewarded him with a warm smile.

"I see a bag from Prada," Chandler sing-songed.

"He's really _not_ gay," Monica told David.

Rachel pulled out a burgundy dress with a short skirt and plunging neckline. "Burgundy is _the _color for fall…had to have it."

"Oh, this is great!" Phoebe reached over and felt the fabric admiringly. "You should wear this to the party tonight!"

Rachel nearly dropped her dress. "What party?"

"We're all going to Delmonico's to celebrate Phoebe and David's engagement," Monica answered.

Delmonico's. Rachel had a flashback of a memorable visit to Delmonico's. 

__

"I uh…I think I'm falling in love with you."

She shook it off, trying to erase her mind like an etch-a-sketch. "Who is 'all' of us?"

"Well, you, me, Chandler, Ross, and of course Phoebe and David. Ross is taking Emma to my parent's house even as we speak." Rachel heard a false note in Monica's tone. Her friend was holding something back.

"You guys aren't going to invite Joey?" She spoke slowly, playing the dumb cheerleader to her advantage.

Monica gave Chandler a look. He hung his head in shame. "Yes, Joey will be there…with Lydia."

Rachel threw her bags down and rose to her feet in a rage. "Lydia! Who invited _Lydia_, for God's sake?"

Chandler slithered down in the chair as Monica answered. "Joey came by for a minute to see Phoebe. Lydia was over there finishing up the web site and tagged along. Chandler invited him to the dinner party with Lydia standing right there. We couldn't _not_ invite her after that."

"This is just _wonderful_!" Rachel gathered up her bags in a huff and stomped to her room. "Now I have to spend my last night before I go to Florida watching Lydia hump Joey's leg like a Chihuahua on steroids!"

"Delmonico's has awesome cheesecake," Phoebe called to Rachel's retreating back.

~*~*~

Rachel looked at her reflection. She'd been locked in her room for almost two hours primping for Phoebe's party but the results were worth it. Her hair was perfect. Her makeup was just right for an evening out. The new dress was carefully placed on her bed, ready for her to put on. The new bra gave her cleavage like she'd never had before. The only thing missing was some shimmering lotion to give her a little extra glow. 

She tied on a short silky robe, one of her purchases for the trip to Florida, and headed for the bathroom to get the lotion from the medicine cabinet.

Her thoughts were occupied with the trip, with seeing Joey and Lydia together, and with some secret hope that she could still manage to have one night with him before she left. For all she knew, it might be their last chance.

The sound of water running in the bathroom stopped her from walking in. She turned and went to Monica's room instead.

Monica was putting the finishing touches on her makeup when Rachel opened the door. "Honey, can you go get my lotion out of the bathroom? Chandler's in the shower and there's no way I'm going in there."

"Oh, it's not Chandler." Monica laughed. "It's Joey. His shower stopped working and Treeger shows no signs of fixing it tonight."

"Joey's in our shower?"

"Yes," Monica repeated Rachel's excited tone. "Joey's in our shower."

That was all the encouragement she needed. She pulled her robe on a little tighter and made hot tracks to the bathroom.

She opened the door and stepped inside where a thick cloud of steam enveloped her.

"It's just me," she called to Joey over the hum of the shower.

He shut the water off. "Can you hand me a towel?"

She took one of Monica's giant bath towels from the rack and passed it over the top of the shower curtain to him. "I just came to get my lotion," she explained as she removed it from the medicine cabinet. She closed the door to the cabinet with an unsteady hand, wondering why she didn't just leave, why it was so hard to walk out of any room that had him in it.

He pushed the shower curtain back and stepped out, the towel wrapped snugly around his waist, water droplets all over his skin. He rumpled his hair with a hand. "I've gotta go home and get some gel on this stuff." 

__

Don't go there, she warned herself, fighting the swell of yearning that threatened to take her breath away. 

__

What the hell, you've got two more days with him, she answered herself, _go where ever you want._

She put her lotion down and took a small towel from the rack. "You're all wet…let me dry you off."

Before he could reply, she was rubbing the thick terry cloth towel over his shoulders and back.

"What are you _doing_, Rachel?" His voice was heavy with arousal. 

"Is it working?" She bit her lip, waiting for his reply.

He spun her around in front of him and claimed her lips in a long, burning kiss that left her knees to collapse under her. She could only utter one word when he dragged his lips away from hers.

"More."

He lifted her from the floor, placing her on the edge of the sink before covering her mouth with his. She responded eagerly by rubbing his shoulders in slow, lazy circles. He pulled her closer, crushing her against him. She parted her lips to give his seeking tongue greater access as she locked her legs around him, pushing the center of her raging desire against his in a way that elicited a sound of tormented longing from him. His tongue swirled around hers, heating the kiss to an unbearable degree and sending a surge of adrenaline to every nerve in her body. She forgot about Monica on the other side of the apartment, or that she was leaving for Florida with Ross in two days. Without caution or second thoughts, she gave herself over to the intensity of the moment.

Her soft wordless protest sounded throughout the room when he took his lips from hers. He moved his hands from her waist in back to the front where her robe closed. He took the ties in his hands, slowly pulling out the bow that held it closed until they lay slack in his hands. She saw a tremor of nervousness flicker across his face. The guy who had slept with four out of five women in New York City was anxious about going this far with her. She understood his reticence and it only made her want him more.

She put her hands on his face and pulled him back for another kiss. "Don't worry, sweetie. It's going to be fine." She slid her hands from his face, down to his shoulders, then let them hover at the spot where the towel fastened around him. "We're practicing for the big event, that's all."

He pushed her hair back and covered her face with soft, affectionate kisses. "It's different, because it's _us_, you know?" She nodded, guiding his lips back to hers. "I just love you so much." She inched further down the edge of the sink and drew him closer, pulling him into another heart-stopping kiss. He broke away and leaned his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes. "I want it to be perfect for you."

She wrapped her legs tighter around him and brushed her fingers through his damp hair as his lips found hers again. He lavished attention on her bottom lip, denying her thirst for full contact with his sweet, warm mouth. His kisses journeyed to the corner of her mouth and then down her neck, unhurried and uninterrupted.

Her breathing grew faster as her muted moans grew more fervent. He extricated himself from her arms and arranged them at her sides.

"Oh, God…I love the way you taste…the way you feel…" His hands parted her robe just enough to slide it down her shoulders, his hands skimming over her bare skin, sliding under the straps of her Victoria's Secret bra. "I love those little sounds you make…"

"Yeah, well, I don't!" Monica's voice shattered the blurry atmosphere of the bathroom.

Joey and Rachel stood as still as a pair of statues in an adult art gallery.

Monica tapped briskly on the door. "My parents can hear you all the way out on Long Island."

Rachel heaved a sigh and loosed her hold on Joey. "We need to stop and finish getting dressed for the party." She traced the outline of his lips with her finger.

"I know." He kissed her again, less ardent this time, more sedate. "What do you say maybe…after the party tonight…when everyone's gone to bed…you drop by my place?"

"I don't see why not," she said, hoping he didn't see the guilt in her eyes. _Here we go again. I'm trying to work in one night with him before everything changes._

He pulled away from her and turned the shower on again.

"Why are you doing that?" She watched as he stepped back in and drew the curtain shut before throwing his towel over the curtain rod.

"I uh…I need some cold water right now."

The encounter ended with a laugh as Rachel, lotion in hand, let herself out of the bathroom to finish dressing.

__

~*~*~

****

A/N: Keep going to the next chapter, it picks up later that night.


	15. Do What You Have To Do

****

Past & Present

Chapter 12: Do What You Have To Do

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters. Who thinks I should? Who's with me? 

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: A little more hot writing, a little fighting, a few drinks too many…

See the author's note of the previous chapter for further explanations. For the male reader in Hawaii who enjoyed catty Rachel, you should especially like this chapter.

The title of this chapter is taken from the Sarah McLaughlin song of the same name.

~*~*~

Rachel looked around as she stepped out of the cab in front of Delmonico's, searching the human traffic for some sign of Joey. He was nowhere to be seen.

Chandler and Monica had taken the Porsche. David and Phoebe had ridden over with them while Ross and Rachel took a cab. Joey was supposed to take a cab to Lydia's apartment and pick her up before joining them.

They planned to arrive together. Rachel knew that Joey viewed this as nothing more than a friendly escort. Lydia, on the other hand, had to see it as another phase of her game plan to infiltrate every aspect of his life. A pang of resentment momentarily overshadowed her anticipation of the night to come. It seemed that Lydia's name was becoming permanently linked in Rachel's mind with unpleasant emotions.

"Let's go get our table, Joey will be here any minute." Chandler held open the door to the restaurant, letting Monica in first as David, Phoebe, Ross, and Rachel followed. 

The sound of a car pulling up to the curb caught Rachel's attention just before she stepped inside the restaurant. She turned her head to see Joey getting out of a cab, looking sexier than the law should allow. He was wearing black from head to foot, more formal than his usual casual style. Her pulse raced responsively as all rational thought fled her mind. How could anyone be so attractive? She would challenge any woman to deny it. No one would turn him down, looking the way he did tonight.

She stood still, allowing her eyes to linger over every last inch of him. A hot blush colored her face as her fevered memory wandered first to things they'd done, then to other things they'd _almost_ done but never finished. Things she still wanted to do, more now than ever. Things she had every intention of doing tonight.

Joey watched her cheeks burst into scorching pink. He read her face and could see exactly what she was thinking. Taming his impulse to throw her over his shoulder, find the first available flat surface and get another look at that lacy bra she had on under it, he turned reluctantly to offer Lydia his hand as she stepped out of the cab.

Lydia emerged from the cab, a slinky black dress clinging to her tanned skin, spiked heel shoes adding just enough height for her to gaze up at Joey in an adorably helpless manner. She laced her fingers over his arm possessively. She had claimed him for her own.

Before Lydia could accost her with insincere smiles and chatter, Rachel turned and let herself into the restaurant, almost choking on the bile of jealousy.

The maitre de was leading the group to a long, narrow table with four chairs on each side. Chandler and Monica took the first seats beside each other at one end with Phoebe and David across from them. That left Ross and Lydia to occupy the middle seats on each side with Joey and Rachel sitting at the end of the table across from each other. Joey was squirming in his chair beside Lydia from the overt awkwardness of it all. Rachel flopped down carelessly in her seat beside Ross, happy to sit across from Joey but filled with the urge to stuff Lydia down a manhole.

__

Wonderful, Rachel practically snarled as the maitre de unfolded her napkin, _a front row seat. _

"Everyone wants wine but Monica and Phoebe, I assume?" Chandler was paging through the wine list.

"Yes!" Joey and Rachel answered in resounding unison. 

"I'm thinking a nice red, maybe a Merlot…" Chandler continued.

"Sweetie, you're not a wine expert," Monica told him. "Let Ross order it."

"That's ok, he can handle it." Ross was unsuccessfully trying to catch Phoebe's eye without drawing the attention of the others.

"We'll have the house Merlot for six," Chandler said to the waiter, "and sparkling water for two."

Rachel instantly recognized the waiter as the one from the night when Joey had told her…

The waiter ran the specials but Rachel never heard a word of it. Joey was tapping his fingers absently on the table, distracting her already flustered attention. She couldn't take her eyes off his hands as she relived every sensation they'd evoked when he'd expertly smoothed them over her body just hours before. Her toes curled inside her Jimmy Choo "Perfect" sandals as she flashed back on Barbados, on his weight pressing against her as they fell back on the bed in a tangle. Unquenchable hammering need was building up inside her, begging for immediate release.

"Rach?" Ross' voice cut into her fantasy. She turned her dilated eyes to him. "Salad?" he asked, repeating the waiter's inquiry.

"Oh." Everyone at the table must have known what she was thinking. "Yes, thank you."

"And for you, handsome?" the waiter asked Joey with a flirty grin.

"You got anything less…salad-y? I mean, for an appetizer?"

"We have a fabulous mushroom risotto…"

Joey shook his head. "You got any hot wings? Something like that?"

Everyone except Lydia and Rachel shared their standard "see how dumb and unsophisticated Joey is" smirk with each other. Lydia was oblivious to it, but Rachel realized what they were doing and looked around at all of them contemptuously.

"We have crab cakes," the waiter continued patiently, too smitten with Joey himself to care if this very desirable customer wanted less than cosmopolitan fare.

"Yeah, bring me some of those instead of salad, and put a rush on the wine, all right?" Joey leaned forward, close enough to Rachel that she could almost feel the warmth of his leg across from hers under the table. 

__

This could be fun after all, she thought, knowing that Joey was looking at her and not Lydia. He was right across from her…anything could happen.

As the waiter made his rounds with the wine, Lydia was badgering Phoebe into telling the story of how she and David met.

"And then he went back to Minsk, and we didn't see each other for years," Phoebe was repeating tonelessly, as if it were a story she'd told so many times that the words had lost all meaning.

Rachel downed her first glass of wine and reached for the open bottle on the table.

"Then he came back to the city for one night, and I had plans with Joey…"

The second glass of wine was draining itself as if by magic.

"Slow down with the wine," Ross chided in her ear. "It's going to go straight to your head."

She threw him a glare of pure annoyance before turning up her glass defiantly and finishing it off. She slammed it down on the table with a flourish, daring him to say anything as she poured a third round.

Ross slumped in his chair and focused his attention on Phoebe's story.

"After all this time, fate brought you back together," Lydia was saying, enraptured. "And you're going to have a baby!"

"Yes, yes we are, and…and…uh, ergo…" David stammered, "ergo, to that end, we're joining our lives in this formal commitment." He held up Phoebe's left hand, showing the tiny diamond ring that adorned it.

Rachel's sought out Joey's gaze over the rim of her glass. He was watching her every movement with the same craving reflected his eyes. And it wasn't for food.

She bit her bottom lip and stared at his, recalling the warm pressure of his mouth on hers. The memory of the taste and feel of his kisses ignited her already insatiable appetite for him. Her awareness was heightened by his presence, her every sense stirred to peak performance. She let out a ragged breath as she dragged her fingertips slowly up and down the stem of her glass. Blood was pounding in her temples. Her temperature was rising like steam from the pavement in August as Joey returned her heated stare with one of his own.

"I'm going to the ladies room," Monica announced abruptly. She grabbed her beaded clutch purse and stood up. "And Rachel is going with me." She strode over to Rachel's chair and waited.

"Thanks, honey, but I don't need to." Rachel licked a drop of wine from her bottom lip. A path burned from her to Joey as her narrowed eyes alluded unspeakable things that they would enjoy together at the end of the night.

"Yes, you are." Monica's voice was sharp as she pulled Rachel up from her chair. Rachel threw her napkin down and followed Monica to the ladies room impatiently, her gold heels tapping out a rhythm on the floor.

Once they were inside the ladies room Monica's temper flared. "_What_ are you doing out there?" Monica tossed her purse onto the vanity and put her hands on her hips in her typical take-no-prisoners stance.

"Having dinner? What does it look like I'm doing out there?" Rachel feigned ignorance and turned to the mirror. She checked her reflection, admiring her dress and imagining the moment when it would finally land on Joey's floor.

"You're having _something_, alright, but it's _not_ dinner."

"Oh, really? Care to let me in on it?" Rachel leaned against the vanity and crossed her arms in defensively.

"You and Joey are sitting there having sex with each other's eyes, like the rest of us aren't even there!" 

"Please," Rachel waved a dismissive hand. "Your imagination is running wild. Pregnancy hormones can do that, you know."

"Pregnancy hormones, my ass. It wasn't enough that I had to _hear_ it in my own bathroom earlier. Now I have to _see_ it. You're having eye sex!" Monica turned on the water and washed her hands as if to cleanse herself of the thought. "Meanwhile, all of us are stuck at the table watching eye porn while you stimulate the stemware."

Rachel gave in. "Ok. I admit, I'm a little…erotically charged. But Mon, seriously…did you _look_ at him tonight? Who _wouldn't_ want to sleep with him?"

Monica shrugged, wrinkled her brow. "Yes, I looked at him. He looked like…like Joey." She shook her head, baffled.

Rachel's jaw hit the floor.

"Is that _it_? The most gorgeous, sexy man on earth is sitting at the table with us and all you can say is, 'he looked like Joey'?" She mocked Monica's voice.

"Honey, I just don't see what you're seeing." Monica was compassionate but unyielding.

Rachel leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips. "God, Monica, you should feel the way he kisses…the things he does with his hands…the words he whispers in your ear while he's…" Monica cleared her throat, cautioning Rachel to stop.

Rachel opened her eyes. "I guess you'd rather not know about the stuff he does." 

"I still can't believe _you_ know about the stuff he does," Monica said, pushing open the door and heading back to the dining room.

Monica and Rachel rejoined the group as Lydia was yammering away at Phoebe.

"For you two to be reunited after all this time, it must be destiny." Lydia clutched Joey's arm in excitement. "Soul mates!"

Chandler groaned. "God, no. Not the soul mate debate."

A snicker went around the table. Lydia widened her eyes, confused. "What? Did I stumble into something here?"

"It's just that Chandler and I don't believe in soul mates, exactly," Monica explained.

Lydia was surprised. "But you two seem like you're perfect for each other!"

"I don't know that anyone is _perfect_ for someone else," Monica mused. "We've never believed that fate or destiny brought us together. We met, we became friends, and we fell in love." She smiled softly at Chandler, who put his arm around her. "We make it work, despite our differences. I think we formed a type of soul mate bond."

"Maybe soul mates are made, not born," Chandler chimed in.

"That's what I was trying to say. That we have an unbreakable bond because of what we've shared, not because it was written in the stars that we'd be together." Monica leaned against her husband's arm and put her hand over the place where her unborn baby rested. "It grows with time."

"But Phoebe's the real expert on this." Chandler raised his glass in salute to Phoebe. "Tell us the real deal on this soul mate thing, Pheebs."

Phoebe's eyes looked out into the distance at something visible only to her. "I do believe in soul mates. In being made for someone who was made for you."

A hush fell across the table as she spoke.

"It might appear as love at first sight. Or you might not recognize them the first time you meet. It could take years for you to finally see who they truly are - for the blinders to fall away and reveal that what you've been searching for was right before your eyes."

As Phoebe continued, it was as if something – someone - was speaking through her. She had the air of an oracle, a wise priestess. "But when you've found your soul mate, you can never forget them. You can communicate without words. You can speak to each other throughout time and space. Your soul mate can hear your call from across the room or across the world. It defies logic and it refuses to leave us, no matter how we might wish it away." She held back for a brief moment, listening to her inner voice. "Even when it's messy and confusing and complicated…it's real and it lasts forever."

Rachel took another drink from her wine. Phoebe's soothsaying held too much meaning for her at the moment, too much indication of a certain conclusion that would never come to pass.

"That's what you guys have," Lydia said, gesturing to Phoebe and David.

"Indeed, yes, I think so." David beamed at Phoebe. "I'm a man of science, like Ross, but I think my lovely here may be onto something."

Lydia shifted her eyes to Ross. "What about you, Ross? Do you believe in soul mates?"

Ross averted his eyes, studying his bread plate as if it were an ancient artifact. "I don't know. I'm not sure what I believe in anymore."

"How about you, Rachel?" Lydia continued her relentless questioning.

Rachel pushed her empty glass forward on the table with a sour face. "No. I don't believe in any of that stuff." Her tone was flatter than a tire with a nail in it.

"But – the day I brought that Don guy to the coffee house to meet Monica – you said –" Phoebe sputtered.

"I know what I said," Rachel snapped. "Things change. I don't believe in soul mates anymore." She and Joey were carefully avoiding each other's eyes, each unwilling to look at the other and see the hopeless truth of their connection.

An uncomfortable silence wrapped around the group. Thankfully, the waiter arrived with their salads and Joey's crab cakes in the nick of time.

__

And another bottle of Merlot, Rachel thought as she refilled her glass with unrepressed glee.

"How many glasses of wine have you had tonight?" Chandler was watching the bottle empty itself into Rachel's glass repeatedly.

"I lost count at five." Chandler heard the hostility in her answer and dropped that line of questioning.

"We should all chip in and buy Rachel a vineyard for her next birthday," Phoebe observed. "That's _one_ gift she wouldn't return the next day."

Everyone but Joey laughed.

The conversation returned to less serious channels as Monica and Phoebe compared notes on early pregnancy. They both looked hopefully at Rachel, expecting her to contribute to the discussion, but she was too intent on imbibing to participate. Lydia, the expert on everything, was glad to fill in the gaps for her.

Joey was plunging into his crab cakes with his usual enthusiasm for any form of physical enjoyment. A sound of gratification sounded in the back of his throat, turning up the flame that was simmering away under her desire for him. An image slammed into her mind, one of her making him moan like that in the dim privacy of his bedroom, their bodies meshed together in a sweaty coil. Her eyes drifted up, observing his expression of unabashed pleasure and wishing she could be both the cause and the recipient of it.

He felt her eyes on him, her gaze warming him like the steamy shower he'd stepped out of just before she'd wrapped herself around him and drove him to the brink in Monica's bathroom. It was almost as if he was reading her mind. He glanced up, a decidedly aroused glint lurking behind his steady face. He was sending her a mute dare to keep playing the game. She took it gladly, ready to raise the stakes - and a few other things, while she was at it.

She speared a tiny mouthful of salad and bit into it, slowly and suggestively drawing the tines of her fork between her closed lips. The expression on her face left no doubt that the fork wasn't what she had in mind.

"Your table manners have gone totally to hell," Ross observed in disgust, clueless about the reason behind her behavior.

The others continued to chatter in the background. Joey repositioned himself in his chair several times, the crab cakes forgotten. Lydia stopped dispensing pregnancy advice long enough to look at her companion. "Are you ok? Stop fidgeting."

"Joey likes to play with his food." Monica spoke up, shooting Rachel a warning look that went unheeded.

Before Joey could collect his thoughts, Rachel slid forward on her chair just enough to give herself additional leg extension. She raised her foot under the table and stretched it out, letting her bare ankle graze Joey's. She rubbed it back and forth at a leisurely pace, savoring the torturous friction and his unmistakable reaction. She moved her foot several inches higher and continued, varying her movements just enough to keep him guessing.

Suddenly she felt his fingers trailing their way up the back of her leg, starting at her ankle. He was retaliating, his hand making a promise to continue traveling until they were much, much further along. They were definitely stepping outside the bounds of normal dinner behavior.

A sexual moan forced itself from her lips as her eyelids fluttered involuntarily. The discussion at the table came to an unexpected halt with six sets of eyes on Rachel. Joey snapped back into place, his interest in crab cakes conspicuously renewed.

They were all staring at her. Demanding an explanation for her outburst. She thought fast. Her inebriated mind seized on the first thing that came to her.

"Ooooh, ohhh…" She repeated her former eruption with surprising accuracy. "This salad is sooooo good." She took a bite and made a face of deep appreciation for the existence of such vegetable treats.

The all-knowing Monica glowered at Rachel with irritation and continued talking. The others, assuming that Rachel was merely drunk and bored, resumed the conversation with no notice of Joey's smothered amusement.

Rachel's eyes darted around the table from face to face. Everyone was too absorbed with their boring discussion to pay attention to what was happening under the table. That in mind, she ran her ankle all the way up his leg and propped her foot beside him in the chair.

He raised his eyebrows at her. She gave him a look that told him the next move was his to make.

She stifled a gasp when he unbuckled the ankle strap on her shoe with one hand and slipped it off her foot in a single motion, letting it drop to the floor. It was the second time he'd begun undressing her that day. They were hovering dangerously close to the edge in front of all their friends, adding an extra thrill to the already provocative situation.

She scanned the group to make sure no one was watching. The coast was clear. Without looking up from her plate, she slid her bare foot across his lap and planted it front and center with a wayward smile.

He looked up, shocked, eyes as round as saucers. He was completely at her mercy, a prisoner of pounding, unremitting temptation. His hand shot to the side and knocked over his glass of wine. Garnet-colored liquid gushed across the table.

Monica rushed over with her glass of sparkling water and began dabbing at the stain, looking at Rachel like she was the guilty party in a police line-up. Rachel ignored her and raised an eyebrow at Joey, inaudibly asking him if he was ready for more.

"What's with you? Why are you sweating?" Lydia demanded of him. 

Rachel didn't try to suppress a snort of derision. _Why don't you ask him if he needs to be burped or changed?_ Her dislike of Lydia was reaching epic proportions in record time, threatening to spill over like a toxic potion boiling out of a beaker.

"I'm just a little – edgy. That's all." He shrugged, trying to put an end to the topic.

Lydia pressed against him and wrapped her fingers around his forearm, lowering her eyelids to half-mast. "I can take the edge off," she said huskily, her voice dropping to a sultry register.

That did it. Rachel pulled her foot back to the floor and banged her fork down on her salad plate. "Good going, Lydia! _Subtle_."

Lydia fixed her doe eyes on Rachel. "Do you have a _problem_, Rachel?"

"No, not at all." Rachel let out a sardonic chuckle. "I just find it really, really funny that you think we're too stupid to know what you're talking about." She refilled her glass with wine and chugged it back.

"Are you _drunk_ or something?" Lydia exploded. "Besides, that was a _private_ conversation."

"Oh, come on, Lydia." Rachel leaned back in her chair, settling in for a good argument. "If it was so _private_, why'd you say it in front of us? We _all_ knew what you meant." She flung her arm out in Phoebe's direction. "Even Phoebe's fetus knew what you were talking about!"

"Her _name_ is Roxanne," Phoebe blasted.

"And, hello? _Not_ the only fetus in the room," Monica reminded her.

"Why stop there? Why don't you two go at it right here, right now?" Rachel made a sweeping gesture across the table. "Come on! Show us what you've got!"

"You're making a scene," Ross said through clenched teeth.

Rachel raised her salad plate from the table. "Hey, you guys? Pick up your plates! Give these kids some room! Tonight we're getting dinner _and_ a show!"

"You're _crazy_," Lydia, looking genuinely afraid, backed away. "Does she always act like this when she's plastered?" She looked around the table for an answer.

"Do you always act like a horny bitch at the dinner table?" Rachel retorted.

"Oooh, girlfight." Chandler was nearly panting with anticipation.

"You've been gunning for me since _day one_. Tell us, Rachel – why is that? Is someone a little unhappy that she ditched Joey for Dinotopia over there?" Lydia pointed at Ross.

"Hey," Ross protested, "Dinotopia was a _very informative film_!"

Rachel tapped her knife on the side of her glass, making a clinking sound. "Announcement, everyone – Lydia is Joey's new owner!"

"You know that's not true," Joey said quietly from across the table.

"I've been in his bathroom." Rachel slurred as the other patrons turned to look at her. "I've seen the evidence under the sink. Let's just say Joey's the fire hydrant and Lydia's got her leg hiked _way_ up." She threw her knife down on the table like a gauntlet.

"Baby, you're gonna have to dial it down a little," Joey muttered to Rachel.

"Baby? _Baby_?" Lydia was accusing. "She's _baby_ now?" She rolled her eyes at the ceiling.

"And _you_ need to let it go." He frowned as he addressed Lydia and reached across the table for Rachel's hand.

"Hey!" Lydia slapped his hand away from Rachel's. "Who the hell are you with tonight, anyway?"

"If we leave now, we might not get arrested," Monica whispered to Chandler, who got up and made a beeline for the door with Monica in hot pursuit. Phoebe and David merely sat back, watching in horror. Ross stared at Rachel with a mixture of fascination and revulsion. He was amazed at seeing this side of her. He'd only glimpsed it once, years ago when he got an intoxicated message on his answering machine about "closure".

"I'm with you, ok? _As a friend. _But she's very special to me." Joey explained himself to Lydia with more patience than she deserved. Rachel's heart melted for him, but she gave no quarter to Lydia.

He reached again for Rachel's hand and once more was met with a slap on the wrist from Lydia. "Stop with _that_."

Rachel snagged the half-empty bottle of Merlot and turned it up for a long drink.

"Good lord, look at yourself!" Ross was appalled. "You're brawling like a drunk in a biker bar, you're drinking _directly_ from the bottle…"

"Looks like Princess Rachel isn't so high-class after all," Lydia smirked.

Rachel picked up her salad fork and flung the contents at Lydia, hitting her smack on the bodice of her black dress. Throwing all those wet paper towels had perfected her aim.

"You _bitch_!" Lydia stood up, shrieking like a chained monkey when she saw the stain on her dress.

Rachel allowed herself a smile of satisfaction. "Did that take the edge off, Lydia?" She shook her head in mock regret. "Too bad…it was such a nice dress, for an off the rack copy." Rachel finished off the bottle of wine and exhaled like a man who'd just guzzled down a cold beer.

The manager was walking briskly toward their table, scowling. 

"Oh no, look." Phoebe pointed to him. David shrunk into his chair, the picture of timidity.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you people to leave immediately." The maitre de appeared at his side. "Francois will show you to the exit."

Joey pulled Lydia toward the door. "We're getting in a cab and taking you home." Their waiter waved a wistful goodbye to Joey.

Rachel scrambled beneath the table to get her missing shoe and hit her head in the process. Ross threw some cash on the table and helped Rachel to her feet. She hobbled unsteadily to the door, one shoe on and one shoe off. An older man was staring at her as if she were an extra terrestrial in very fashionable clothing. Rachel stopped to give him a drunken high-five and narrowly escaped falling into his table.

"Woah, sorry about that!" She took the gold sandal in her hand and plunked it into the ice bucket on the man's table. "There ya go!" She turned to the woman sitting across the table from him. "It's Jimmy Choo, you'll _love_ it."

Ross dragged her away by the hand.

"I'm contacting the mayor and asking him to revoke your drinking privileges." He had never been more embarrassed. All eyes were on them as they made their way out of the restaurant amidst the shocked whispers of the other customers.

When they stepped outside the cool night air jolted Rachel back to her senses to a small degree. 

Phoebe was furious.

"I can't _believe_ you guys got us thrown out!" Her face crumpled. David tried to put a comforting arm around her, which she threw off just as quickly. "It was Roxanne's first trip to Delmonico's and she was _really_ excited about it!" 

Ross stammered his apologies to Phoebe, who put her arms around him as if he was the one source of sanity in a world gone mad. He held her close and whispered comforting words that had the desired effect of soothing her ruffled feelings while David looked on, confused.

Chandler and Monica roared up in the Porsche to pick up David and Phoebe. Rachel wanted to apologize for ruining Phoebe's engagement party but the words wouldn't form in her mouth, the excess wine having made normal speech impossible.

Phoebe reluctantly said goodnight to Ross. David helped her into the car and Chandler sped away, fleeing the scene of the crime.

"Are you happy now? This was her special night and you _ruined_ it." Ross looked at Rachel as if she were a stranger. "You have _less_ than zero self-control. When did you turn into this – this _person_ that I don't even know anymore?" He glanced down at her feet. "And _why_ did you put your shoe in that guy's ice bucket?"

Rachel leaned against a light post to steady herself as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She was able to tune out Ross' ranting – years of practice had perfected that ability. Several yards away Joey was unsuccessfully trying to hail a cab.

__

Take me home tonight, she wished, watching his every movement. _Let me wake up beside you. _The churning lust of earlier had been reduced to the rubble of loneliness. She clung to the post for support, wine spinning in her head and longing tossing in her heart.

Phoebe's words replayed in her mind. _"Your soul mate can hear your call from across the room or across the world."_

She watched Joey trying to placate Lydia, who was screaming and smacking him on the arm with her tiny clutch purse. He was so obviously out of his league with her. She was shrewd and manipulative and scheming – everything he was not.

__

Look at me, Rachel silently called to him. _Remind me of what we have together._

Joey raised his head suddenly as if he'd heard a shot. His eyes found Rachel and he raised his eyebrows in a wordless question. She answered with a feeble smile, feeling as if every bone in her body had turned to water.

He'd heard her calling him. They'd proved Phoebe's theory.

Ross flagged down a cab and opened the door for Rachel. Lydia piped up when she saw it.

"That should be _our_ cab! It's the least she could do after trashing my dress and getting us thrown out!" She turned to Joey for backup. He shrugged, exhausted by the tumultuous evening and saddened by the realization that Rachel was far too intoxicated to come to his apartment for their much-anticipated rendezvous.

Rachel walked to the cab in wobbly steps like a baby bird learning the use of its legs as Lydia's caustic insults echoed through the air. Rachel stopped short of getting in the cab and turned to the source of all the noise, unable to resist one last dig.

"Hey Lydia!" Rachel banged her fists together in Joey's favorite semi-obscene gesture. "Vafa' Napoli!"

Lydia pointed at Rachel as her face contorted with rage. "I know what that means! I'm Sicilian! Don't you _even_ try that with me!" Joey was dragging Lydia to the cab he'd just secured.

"Go take the edge off yourself, computer bitch!" Rachel screamed as Ross put his hand on her head and lowered her into the back seat of the cab, police style.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Her words were almost too slurred to be intelligible.

"Gary, on the ride-along." He slammed the cab door behind him and gave the driver Monica's address.

Rachel leaned against the window, watching the scenery speed by as the headed back to the Village. She was beginning to regret the wine intake and her reckless actions in equal measure.

"Do you have _any_ idea what a fool you made of yourself?" Ross hissed, unable to look at her. "The Rachel I loved _never_ acted like that. What the hell has happened to you?"

"I'm not the Rachel you loved anymore." Her voice was thick and her eyes wouldn't focus. She was desperately trying to ignore the sick feeling welling up in her stomach, a feeling that was sure to kill any hope of spending the night at Joey's if it didn't stop soon.

"Yeah, I think that's obvious. So who _are_ you? Some boozy guttersnipe who fights over a man in _restaurant_?"

She didn't answer him. What would it accomplish to tell him that she was dying inside because she couldn't have the one thing she wanted more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life?

Her resolve to mend fences with Ross went unremembered. The only thing on her mind was getting away from him and the prying eyes of the others.

There was one other pressing matter. When the driver stopped at an intersection, Rachel flung the cab door open and proceeded to be sick all over the street.

~*~*~

Light filtering in from beneath the door stabbed through Rachel's head like a dagger. She pulled the pillow over her eyes, trying to escape back into the numbing refuge of sleep.

It didn't work. Her mind was wide-awake, even if the rest of her wanted to sleep in.

Why had she drunk so much the night before? What had possessed her?

Then it hit her. She remembered.

The melting hot encounter with Joey in the bathroom had rattled her. She'd gone to dinner, her decision to work through things with Ross firmly in place and a plan to spend one night with Joey before going to Florida cemented in her mind. Then the mere sight of Joey with Lydia had thrown her into such turmoil that she'd medicated herself with an impressive quantity of Merlot and unleashed the monster that was her jealousy.

A slide show of scenes from the previous night played in her head in a continuous loop. The frenzied kisses in the bathroom. Her rabid dislike of Lydia. A sexy secret game with Joey run amuck. Her drunken outburst. Phoebe's disappointment and Ross' disgust. Ross lugging her up to Monica's and putting her in bed with a pan beside her, ruling out any chance of meeting with Joey to fulfill their plan.

Her head throbbed with pain as she reviewed her actions.

She had made a terrible scene and embarrassed everyone she loved. She'd done an injustice to Joey by lashing out at Lydia, who, despite her flaws, obviously cared about him and was willing to make some sort of life with him. An instant mental replay of Lydia's homemaker habits and singular devotion to Joey's career confirmed it.

__

But that's not what he really wants, a small voice insisted. _He wants you and you want him._

She threw the pillow off and covered her eyes with a shaky hand. What was she going to do?

Ross had become the person he was today because of his supposed mistake with Chloe. That night had been the turning point in his life. Rachel knew she was at least as responsible for this misinterpretation as he was. The only way to mitigate the damage was to stop fighting each other, to let him have his daughter and what remained of the life they'd lost, the life they would have had together but for this one error.

The only thing standing in the way was Joey.

Lying in her inflated bed in a room that was no longer her own, Rachel made the hardest decision of her life. There would be no looking back this time, no more close calls and near misses. She would do whatever it took to put the required distance between Joey and herself. She had to make this work. Somehow, some way, she and Ross had to forge a new understanding. If they couldn't be in love again – and she was certain that they couldn't - they had to become co-parents who could live together in peace. She hadn't given him forgiveness, but she would give him this – something that cost her so much more.

Her choice was made. She would give up the man she loved for the sake of her daughter's father. She owed it to Ross to let him finally have what he'd always wanted…a family. She had to end it with Joey forever. 

She had to do it today. Before another crazy episode happened, before they got in so far that neither of them could find their way out again. She felt, rather than knew, that once certain lines were crossed between them, there would be no going back. It had to end before they reached that point.

She had to give him up while she still could.

Rachel rolled over and hid her face under Monica's lavender scented sheets. She had to find sleep again. It was the only way to forestall the inevitable end.

__

But it will never really be over, will it? The voice was back, louder this time, placing itself between her and sleep. _You know you'll never stop loving him. Goodbye doesn't mean letting go._

It meant living without each other for the good of everyone involved. 

Phoebe had spoken the truth. It was real and it would last forever, even though they couldn't be together. Somehow the thought was less comforting than it should have been. She didn't want some mystical connection with him to sustain her for the rest of her life. She wanted him right beside her every day in all his messy reality.

But the deck was stacked against them from day one. The baggage she brought to any relationship was bad enough. With Joey it was doubled. It would always be too complicated. There would always be too many other people involved who would get hurt.

They'd never actually stood a chance.

Rachel pulled herself out of bed and staggered to the bathroom. The apartment was quiet. Monica and Chandler were both still asleep and Emma had spent the night with Jack and Judy Geller.

She fumbled for some asprin and water, wishing that they contained some elusive substance to shut off her impossible feelings. But it was just asprin. She'd be lucky if it could shut off her hangover headache, much less anything else.

She faced the mirror over the sink and stared at herself. She looked like she felt – washed out, hung over, and facing a terrible task.

__

My good looks certainly won't tempt him today. She attempted to find the gallows humor of the situation while she washed her face and brushed her teeth.

She ran a comb through her hair, which was starting to revert to its natural wave instead of the sleek straight style that she forced it into with a dryer and iron. 

Back in her room she took off the burgundy Prada dress she'd worn to the engagement party from hell and tugged on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before shoving her feet into her boots. The shopping bags piled in the corner reminded her of the upcoming trip to Florida. Better to end it now, she told herself, when they have the rare chance to be away from each other. It had to make this easier – didn't it?

She let herself out quietly and walked across the hall. For a moment she paused at the door, remembering everything that had happened in his apartment. Everything they'd shared.

A rush of emotion threatened to stop her from knocking. She couldn't bring herself to do this, to cut him out of her life and put any possibility of being together behind her. She had the terrifying epiphany that at this stage of things she probably loved Joey more than he loved her.

Cold reason broke through followed by guilt. Ross' voice telling her that he couldn't imagine his life without her before she'd sent him away to lose everything.

Joey would understand. He always understood her. They'd known from the start that it had to end sometime…but sometime had come too soon.

She raised her hand and knocked on Joey's door. 

~*~*~

****

A/N: Two down, three to go! The next chapter will contain a cliffhanger of such immense proportions that I refuse to post it without the follow-up chapter. So an update may be weeks coming. It's going to take a very, very dark and sad tone, but it's necessary for the story and I'm going ahead with it despite the fact that you're all going to want to kill me over it. If y'all don't already want to kill me over the sexual tension, that is. Do we keep that element in the story or let it go? Let me hear from you guys. And be patient while I write the next two chapters – they will resolve everything and lead you into an ending that, hopefully, will be worth the wait.


	16. With Or Without You

****

Past & Present

Chapter 13: With Or Without You

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends", but I'm pretty happy with what the owners are doing with it at the moment.

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ok. You're all going to hate me for this. I know you are. I know it's out there, and risky, and dark and morbid and depressing. Well, you were warned. Read the premise note up above. All the various threads and tangles have been leading to this very moment. When I first came up with the story, it was this chapter. I built the entire story around this moment so that all roads led here.

That's why I took **so** much time writing this one. It's the most important chapter in the whole story, and I am a total nervous wreck about publishing it. Please be kind in your reviews. Most of all, trust me and trust what I'm doing here, and remember – I'm the world's most diehard Joey fan. I'll always take care of him in my stories. Believe that and keep reading. 

The new chapter will resolve everything and bring great happiness to all J&R fans. I know I promised to publish them at the same time, but the demand for new chapters is really high and people are impatient. The next one won't take long for me to write. This one was so, so, so hard. I'd write a paragraph and feel too drained to continue.

Anyway, as always, read, review, and enjoy. Most of all, believe in happy endings. I know I do.

~*~*~

Joey answered within seconds of her knock, almost knocking her off her feet with surprise.

She flicked her eyes up and down his body, a half smile forming as she noticed the plaid pajama bottoms he'd bought to wear when she and Emma moved back in.

__

So many things will remind me of us together, as long as I live. 

"What's up? Are you ok?" He held the door open for her to come in.

She wrapped her hand around his wrist. "Can you come out here and talk for a few minutes?" 

He nodded, brows knitting themselves together. A puzzled expression took over his features. He stepped out and closed the door behind him. Rachel steered him to the stairs by his elbow and sat down, patting the space beside her.

"What are you doing up so early?" She threw out the pointless question, stalling for a few more seconds with him before she told him the real reason for her visit.

"Treeger was here at the crack of dawn to fix my shower," he grumbled. "But tell me about you – were you sick last night?"

Rachel grimaced and examined her manicure. "You don't want to hear about that, trust me." She shook her head, repulsed at the memory getting sick on the street.

His hand found hers and brought it up to his lips for a kiss. "Poor baby." His thumb circled her palm, revving up her pulse like a perfectly tuned engine. The most innocent contact became sensually charged when it occurred between them.

She raised her eyes slowly to his face, seeing his smoldering desire for her melting in his brown eyes. This had to stop before they ended up in a clinch on the stairs.

She pulled her hand away from his, aching from the loss of his touch. "We have to talk."

He fell back on the stairs, scrunching his face and covering his eyes with his hands. "Is this about Lydia? Because what I told you last night is the truth – "

"It's not about Lydia. It's about us."

He took his hands from his eyes and looked at her, eyebrows raised like question marks. "What?"

She crossed her arms over her knees and rested her chin on them. "First – I'm sorry about last night. I was wrong to talk to Lydia that way –"

He reached across and placed a warm hand on her arm. "Hey, don't be sorry, all right? Lydia gave as good as she got. She knows how to take care of herself."

That simple touch sent a shock wave through Rachel, reminding her that all these little moments were about to come to an end. There could never be any more innocent touches, no more private jokes and sidelong glances like there had been for years. Every word and look and gesture between them would be fraught with suspicion, passing under the scrutiny of the others that would never forget that there had once been a Joey and Rachel for one brief week.

"Still – it was wrong and I shouldn't have acted like that. I'm sorry for that…for a lot of things."

His eyes darkened with suspicion. "There's something else, isn't there? And it's a bad something." He withdrew his hand from her arm and waited, worry visible in every line of his body.

"I'm going to Florida with Ross and the kids tomorrow. For five days."

She paused, watching him absorb this. 

"But you're coming back, right?"

She opened her mouth to pronounce the words that would sever their relationship. She willed herself to speak, tightening her vocal cords and trying to push out the sound that stilled somewhere inside her, refusing to cooperate.

A strangled cry was the only thing she could manage.

"Oh my God." He backed away from her, sliding to the other side of the step. "You're ending it."

She had promised herself that she wouldn't cry but it was a lost battle. She felt as if she was cutting off a limb or some essential part of herself that she required to exist. Despite her dehydration, tears spilled out of her blue eyes like a sprinkler system attempting to snuff out a fire.

He looked numb, like a man with a fatal wound who knew death was imminent but had ceased to feel pain.

"Why?" His voice was toneless. They were both aware that he already knew why and his question was a mere formality.

Finally, words released themselves from her. "Didn't we both know it had to end eventually?"

"This is about Lydia, isn't it? You know there's nothing between us. I feel like she's one of my sisters."

"It's not about her." She dragged the back of her hand over her eyes and searched her mind for a way to tell him about Ross without revealing what Chloe had told her.

He slumped down and stared at the floor. "It's Ross."

She nodded, stretching out a hand to comfort him.

He took her hand and held it like a lifeline. "You think he's going to take Emma away from you if we stay together." It was a statement, not a question.

She swallowed back a sob. "It's not about what Ross could take away from _me_. It's about what _I've_ taken away from _Ross_."

He shook his head, confused.

"I know this doesn't make any sense now, but it will, eventually." She clutched his hand, memorizing the way it felt in hers, knowing this was possibly the last time she'd ever hold it. "Nothing with us has ever made sense, has it?" She blinked back another onslaught of tears. "Why should this be any different?"

"You know what doesn't make sense?" He leaned forward to hold her other hand. "Us not being together. You know that stuff Phoebe said last night?"

She sighed and averted her eyes. "Yeah, I remember." Too well.

"Everything you believe in all your life – that you'll find the right person someday and fall in love and spend your life with them – if we're not together, that stuff is just one big lie." He pulled her closer to him, grasping her hands so tightly that it hurt. "This is the only real thing I've ever had."

"He's the father of my child. I have to make things right with him, for her sake." She exhaled, fighting for composure. "I owe Ross _something_, after everything he's been through. And I owe it to Emma to give things a chance."

"Is that why you're going to Florida?"

She nodded, twining her fingers through his. "We have to see if there's anything left between us. We've got to work through this for her sake."

He was tearing up as well. "You remember rule five?" He stopped, trying to keep his voice level. "You're a mom and that comes first." 

She let go of his hands and slid closer to put her arms around him. 

"I told you I'd never be the guy to break up Emma's family." He held her closer, resting his chin on her hair. 

"This is the hardest thing I've ever done." She didn't want to break down but she was on the verge of sobbing.

He pushed her back and tipped her face up with his hand, his eyes meeting hers. "You are going to do so many amazing things with your life – you and Ross are going to move on and have a family together, and this thing with us will be just a memory."

"No, no! This will _never_ be just a memory. What we had was _everything_ to me and I'm not going to forget about it."

He reached across and brushed the tears from her face. "If forgetting it makes your life easier…"

She gave him a weak smile. "We never even got to break rule three."

"Don't you think it would be harder to walk away if we _had_ broken it?"

She shook her head ruefully. "It couldn't possibly be harder than this. Nothing could."

He slowly rose to his feet and offered her a hand to pull herself up. "You know no matter where you go or who you're with, if you need anything –"

"I know." She was standing a foot away from him now, knowing that she had to go back into Monica's apartment and pack, but realizing that the minute the door closed behind her, it would be over.

"I'm so sorry about all of this." She sighed, trying to back away from him but unable to complete the needed steps. "The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you." She heard her own voice speaking such inadequate words, words that could never tell him how much this hurt, how she wished with every fiber of her being that they could run away together and never look back.

"Don't be sorry, Rachel." He lifted his hand to brush her hair back. "I'm the one who's sorry. I mean, if I had known, the first time I saw you –"

She knew what he was about to say and tried to stop the flood of despair that came with it.

"That day in Central Perk, when you came in wearing that wet wedding dress – if I had known then that you were the love of my life, I wouldn't have wasted so much time."

A vice wrapped around her chest, suffocating any hope for this pain to become bearable.

"I don't think I'll ever be happy again." She knew saying it would only make things worse but she couldn't help herself.

"Of course you will." He lightened his tone. "You're going to be so happy with your family, and your career, and your friends…none of this will matter anymore."

"But you're the one who taught me _how_ to be happy." The declaration burst forth from her like an explosion. "You're the person who gave me unconditional love. How can you say it won't matter?"

"Because, Rach – it _can't_ matter anymore." His voice dropped, and she heard his unspoken plea to understand that he was suffering too.

"You're right. It can't." 

There was one thing left to do. She pulled the wrinkled pink envelope bearing his name out of her purse and handed it to him.

"What's this?"

"It's yours. I wrote it a few days ago." He began to open it and she stopped him. "Wait. Don't read it now. It's going to hurt us both too much." 

"You said yourself this couldn't get any worse." He put the envelope in his pocket.

"Someday when you're feeling lonely and need to know that someone –" She broke off and held back the words she wanted to say to him. "Save if for a rainy day." 

She finally turned to the door and placed her hand on the knob. "So I'll see you when we get back from Florida?" She forced herself to sound natural, as if she hadn't effectively ended both of their lives within the last five minutes.

"Sure." He nodded. "Have a great trip."

She might have gone into the apartment then and there if she hadn't turned her eyes to him for one last look. His face was unguarded and she saw something in it that made her stop and rush into his arms.

"Tell me how to do this. Tell me how to lose you, because I don't think I can do it." She buried her face against his chest, listening to the painful beating of his heart.

He smoothed her hair with his hand the way she'd seen him comfort his sisters and nieces. "You _can_ do this. We _have_ to do this."

"I've never loved anyone the way I love you." _There,_ she thought. _It's out. I finally said it._ "I don't think I can let you go."

He gripped her shoulders and pushed her back. "You can. You're stronger than anyone I know." He released her and took a step back. "Go."

Her cry of protest faded into the space between them.

"Go." 

She turned and ran into Monica's apartment, her hand clamped over her mouth to keep her tortured cries from waking up the rest of the house. She went into her room and shut the door.

~*~*~

Joey lived through an hour alone in his bedroom that he never spoke of to anyone.

When he finally emerged, he helped himself to a beer from his fridge and looked around the empty apartment.

He'd been through this two other times. But both of those times he'd had reason to hope that she'd come back.

This time he knew differently. He saw his home through the eyes of detachment. It meant nothing to him now. It could burn to the ground, for all he cared.

He couldn't stay there. Not when his only reason for being there was gone forever. 

The idea that been lurking in a corner of his mind suddenly stepped out of the shadows and became a fully formed plan. He trudged to his phone, picked it up, and punched in his agent's number.

"Estelle? Yeah, it's me. Look, I – I decided to read for that part after all, if it's still available. It is?" He sighed with relief. "You'll tell them I'm coming out to L.A.?"

He listened to Estelle's hoarse voice croaking out instructions about the audition.

"Hey, Estelle? Can you look into finding some other stuff for me to do out there? Like, other auditions…because I've decided to stay out there for a while."

He listened patiently to her recommendations and found himself looking at the door to Rachel's old room. "No. I'm probably not coming back to New York."

~*~*~

Rachel studied the tiny sea shell in her hand, admiring the perfect shades of pink and white pebbled across its surface. She turned it over in her hand, lost in thought until Ben's piercing scream invaded her daydreams.

She laughed when she took in the scene a few yards away. Ross, sporting tropical print swim trunks, was holding Emma above the waves. Tiny Emma screamed with excitement every time a wave came crashing in, flapping her water wing clad arms like a gull ready to take flight. Ben, strapped into a life jacket at his father's insistence, held his arms out and invited the waves to crash against him, shrieking when the sheer power of the Atlantic Ocean knocked him down and laughing when the life preserver bobbed him back to the surface like a cork.

Rachel stood up and tightened the sarong around her waist. The white sand was cool beneath her feet, and the sun was warm without being oppressive. She wandered down to the water, marveling at the pure green waves rolling endlessly to the horizon.

The place was, as Chandler would say, perfection. Almost. It would be perfection if -

She traced Joey's name in the wet sand with her toe and watched the tide sweep it away. He never left her mind for a minute. She missed him so much that his absence had become a presence – a vivid, living presence that seemed more real than the people who surrounded her.

She clutched at her sunglasses as a turbulent ocean breeze rolled past her. She had to stop this constant remembering, this continual conversation she carried on with Joey in her head.

After all, he wasn't there. She owed Ross and the kids her attention. It was pointless to waste it on something that was over.

She threw the shell into the ocean and wondered what Joey was doing at that very moment.

~*~*~

"I can't believe you're doing this." Monica carefully taped shut a box of Joey's clothes. "Can't you at least wait until she gets back and tell her yourself?"

Joey shrugged, removing his videos and dvds from the entertainment center. "It'll be too hard for us to say goodbye again. She's been through enough." He tossed the collection of movies into a cardboard box and kicked it out of the way.

"I don't understand why you think you have to leave New York. I mean, come on, Joe." Chandler put the last of Joey's posters into a mailing tube. "We've all been through break ups before. None of us left town over it."

Joey stopped and folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah, what if you two broke up? What if you guys got divorced, and Monica married Richard or Pete or somebody. You'd stick around and watch it happen?"

Chandler tapped his fingers on the mailing tube and stared at Monica. "You know, we really need to get some packing chips to cushion your videos and stuff."

"I have some across the hall in the closet." Monica stood up and brushed her hands on the front of her pants. "Be back in a minute."

Joey waited until Monica was out of earshot. "It's not just that I don't want to see her with someone else."

"Then why, Joe?" 

Joey continued, cleaning out the kitchen drawer. "If one of us doesn't leave, we're never going to get past this. Every time I see her, it's going to kill me. I need to get out of the way so she and Ross can be happy. As long as I'm here, I'm like this constant reminder of –" He stopped short, staring into the drawer

"What is it?" Chandler stood up and hedged his way to the kitchen.

Joey cleared his throat, removing something from the drawer. "It's just some postcards. Rachel bought them at the hotel gift shop in Barbados."

Chandler reached out to pat Joey's shoulder. 

"She was really nervous, you know…she didn't want to come out and face everyone after –" He closed his eyes and shook his head. "So we went to the gift shop and she picked out some postcards." He put them in the front pocket of his jeans. "No big thing."

Chandler nodded. "It's going to be ok." 

Joey didn't say anything. He ripped the drawer out of the cabinet and emptied it into the trash before shoving it back into place.

"I know how hard it is. You'll get over this, Joey."

"Really? The way you would have gotten over it if you had to end it with Monica right after you got back from London?"

Chandler held up a defensive hand. "I didn't say it was the _same_."

"You're right. It's _not_ the same. You've been with Monica for years. I only got one week." He began throwing his cooking utensils into another box. "I'm not going to get over her. That's why I have to be gone when she gets back. If I see her one more time, I'll want to stay with her."

"You know we're going to take great care of Dina when she moves in here." Chandler's eyes swept the apartment, trying to imagine Dina and her son living there instead of Joey. "I guess something good is coming out of this. At least Dina won't have to move back in with your mom and dad."

"She needs her own place, and I can afford to let her live here rent free for a while. When I get settled, she's going to send the rest of my stuff to me." Joey picked up the box of kitchen stuff and carried it to the living room. "It's all for the best, right man?"

"If you say so." Chandler fought a terrible sensation in the pit of his stomach that was telling him none of this was for the best. In fact, it felt like it was for the worst.

~*~*~

Rachel let herself back into Grandma Geller's beach house, which already felt like a second home after three days. It was part of a small, quiet beachside retirement community. All her elderly neighbors and the staff were delighted to have two children around. Everyone had welcomed the visitors like old friends. 

The inside of the house was homey and familiar to Rachel. The array of framed photographs – many of Ross and Monica as children – the decorative knick-knacks, and the ever present scent of cookies made it seem almost as if she were back at Monica's.

Rachel walked into the living room where Ross' grandmother was asleep in her recliner. The television was tuned to NBC. 

__

Good. I can watch "Days Of Our Lives" without having to explain myself. She made herself comfortable on the well-worn purple sofa and reached into the bag she'd brought back from the convenience store on the corner. With a smile of a child enjoying a forbidden treat, she extracted a soap-opera magazine. A blurb in bright yellow text announced 'Exclusive Q&A With Dr. Drake Inside!'

She flipped through the magazine, looking for the article. She could hear Ross and the kids outside on the beach, their laughter echoing above the perpetual roar of the ocean. A twinge of guilt passed over her. She should be outside with her family, not indulging in an hour of watching Joey on TV and looking at him in a magazine like a star-struck teenager.

Not that Ross seemed especially sad when she'd told him she was staying in that day. He'd readily accepted her claim of having a headache and offered to keep the children busy so she could have peace and quiet. But that was the Ross she'd discovered during the past three days of this vacation – a polite and distant stranger who was always preoccupied. She had the eerie sense that he was there in body only, that his mind and attention and desires were strongly focused elsewhere. She didn't trouble herself to wonder what he was thinking about. She'd never understood Ross or the workings of his mind. If he was content to live like two guests in a hotel, going through the impersonal motions of living together but apart, so was she.

She took the remote control from the coffee table and turned the volume up a notch, one eye on Grandma Geller. Sure enough, the first scene was Drake and Olivia. She picked up a battered throw pillow and hugged it to her chest as she watched the scene.

"That's the one you live with?" Grandma's ancient voice crackled from the recliner.

Rachel turned to her, surprised. "No, we don't live together anymore. I'm living with Monica now." She had explained this more than a few times, but she supposed that someone in her 90's shouldn't be expected to remember much of anything.

She gave Rachel a knowing smile. "He's a nice looking boy, isn't he? Monica says he has his share of lady friends."

Rachel exhaled and looked at the screen. "He's not like that so much anymore."

They were quiet for a minute before Grandma began questioning her again. "How are things with you and Ross?"

Rachel turned down the volume, surprised. "Things are fine. Why?"

"Things don't seem fine to me." She shrugged and reached into the basket beside her chair for her knitting. "I don't think you've said five words to each other since you've been here." She sighed and adjusted her glasses. "I had hoped you two might remarry. Now I see I was wrong."

Rachel was struck by the older woman's overwhelming resemblance to Monica. The physical similarities were obvious despite the enormous age difference. But it was more than that – there was a certain bluntness, a determination to set things right between the people around her, that was so like Monica it was unnerving. She was seeing a preview of Monica at 96.

"We're working on our relationship." Rachel knew this was true in theory, if not in practice. "But we're a long way from considering marriage again." She turned her attention back to the television.

"Must be a hard thing to do, when you're in love with that one." Grandma Geller pointed her knitting needles at the screen for emphasis.

Rachel felt like a thief caught with jewels in her hand. She counted to ten and collected her thoughts before answering. "What makes you think I'm in love with Joey?"

Grandma peered over her glasses at Rachel. "Honey, when you've lived as long as I have, nothing gets by you. It's in the way you look at him. I've been watching the way you stare at the TV for days now. I'm not blind yet, you know. Ross mentioned his name last night during dinner and you nearly dropped your glass on the floor."

"You must have a terrible opinion of me – I have a daughter with your grandson, and here I am, in love with his best friend." It was the first time she'd admitted her feelings to anyone other than herself and Joey. It brought a small measure of relief to put it into words.

"I don't have a bad opinion of you, honey. I just hate to see you two making such a mistake." She shook her head and returned to her knitting.

"Mistake?"

"It's a mistake to force things to work out, as you put it. Either you love my grandson or you don't. If you don't love him, let him be. Let him go on with his life."

"It's not that simple." Rachel frowned, wondering what Ross would think if he could hear this conversation.

"That's what you think." The old woman huffed. "Honey, you can't choose who you love. You love that one." She pointed at Joey's image on the screen again. "Does he love you?" Before Rachel could answer, Grandma stopped her. "Of course he does. Otherwise it wouldn't make you so miserable, being apart from him."

Rachel moved to the end of the couch nearest the recliner. "He does love me. But –"

"No buts, honey." She laid down her knitting and focused her faded blue eyes on Rachel. "Ross is a good boy. Life hasn't been easy for him. His mother – God forgive me for letting Jack marry that nut – ruined him. She put all her hopes and dreams on him to fulfill." She let out a weary sigh. "Too much for one boy to live up to. And poor Monica, well, she could do no right, while Ross could do no wrong."

Rachel nodded in agreement, having seen this for herself.

"He's still trying to be the good son, honey. If being with you to raise his daughter seems like the right thing to do, he'll do it even if you're both unhappy - if you let him."

Rachel glanced over Grandma's shoulder to the bookcase where a framed photo of Ross and Carol on their wedding day beamed back at her.

"That first wife of his was a real piece of work. He's been trying to make up for that mistake ever since. But honey, you can't fix that past by ruining the present. Life doesn't work that way."

Rachel reached across and took Grandma's withered hand in hers. "Tell me what to do. I'm at my wit's end and everyone tells me to work things out with Ross and to let Joey go. I don't know what to think or how to feel –"

"You don't need me to tell you how you feel. What you need a swift kick in the pants to make you wake up and do something about it. You know, Monica gets that from me. I was always proud of her – she tells it like it is." 

Rachel looked at the photo from Monica and Chandler's wedding on the end table beside the recliner, remembering many kicks in the pants she'd received courtesy of Monica.

"I hate to see you and Ross throwing your lives away. Emma will suffer for it. Don't you think she'll realize someday that the only reason you two stayed together was for her? She'll feel responsible for your unhappiness."

"That's not what I want – I want Emma to be happy more than anything. But if -"

"No ifs, either. You think about what I said. I don't want to see Ross get hurt. But sometimes things have to hurt before they can heal." She yawned suddenly. "Honey, do something for me?"

Rachel stood up. "What?"

"Go look on the shelf behind the TV. There's a stack of home movies Jack's been sending to me for years. Would you believe I've never seen them?"

Rachel reached behind the TV and pulled out several VHS tapes. She examined the labels. 1994. 1998. 2000. 2001. 

"Would you mind putting one on and letting me take a look-see? I hate fiddling with that contraption over there." She pointed an accusing knitting needle at her VCR, which was blinking 12:12 defiantly back at her.

"I'd love to watch them myself." Rachel slid the first tape into the VCR and sat down on the rug in front of the TV to watch the videos and travel back in time.

There it was - Monica's apartment, 1994. Rachel's younger self looked back at her from the screen. But she hadn't really looked like that – had she?

Wavy, untamed hair, darker then than now. Fashionable, but unsophisticated. Heavier, less polished. And so young…

Jack was barking at them from behind the camera. Rachel sat at the kitchen table between Ross and Monica, her eyes darting nervously back and forth between the Geller siblings.

__

Always seeking approval. Permission to be myself – I didn't even **have** a self at that point.

"And here's Rachel!" Jack called from behind the camera. "Say hi to Grandma, Rachel!" The camera zoomed in on her face.

"Hi to Grandma!" That wasn't _her_ voice. Her voice was strong and decisive, not the breathy, high-pitched shake of this girl on the screen. She watched her mouth twist into a forced smile when Jack made an off-color joke. Who _was_ this person, this nervous, insecure stranger wearing her face?

She ejected the tape and put in another with a glance over at Grandma Geller, who had already drifted back to sleep. She wiggled closer to the TV and hit play.

There they all were in Monica's living room: Chandler in the big chair, she and Ross on the couch, Joey and Phoebe on the floor, and Monica at the stove in the kitchen behind them.

She saw her hand tightly in Ross' grasp. She was looking at the camera; he was looking at her. 

Phoebe was explaining to Jack that she was uncomfortable with cameras because some native people believe that photographs steal your soul. Ross was rolling his eyes at Phoebe. Chandler made a sarcastic joke. Joey laughed whenever it seemed appropriate to laugh. Rachel merely sat like a statue, her hair in that trendy choppy shag she'd come to hate, her tiny Central Perk apron tied around her waist.

__

Might as well have had on a sign saying "Property of Ross Geller. No Trespassing." Me and his moist-maker sandwich.

Stop. Eject. Play. 

Joey was seated on the couch, lamenting the loss of a part he'd wanted desperately. She was behind him, rubbing his shoulders and telling him he'd make it someday. They weren't in the center of the frame – Jack was filming Monica and Ross as they both held up the Geller Cup and described the football game to their distant grandmother. She and Joey were relegated to the background, left alone to discuss their failings and console each other.

She went through the process again. Stop. Eject. Start another tape.

After the break-up. She was blonder and thinner. She had the job at Bloomingdales – the job Ross had resented. The job Joey had pushed her to into by urging her to quit waitressing. He'd even arranged the interview for her first post-Central Perk job.

She watched herself on screen, moving with a new confidence, beginning to look more Manhattan than Long Island. Gone was the shaky, breathless voice and skittish mannerisms. She had become a new person after beginning that job.

__

After ending it with Ross, she admitted to herself.

After all, she was no longer 'just a waitress'.

__

But if I had stayed a waitress…

Sitting on the floor of a retirement beach house in Florida, countless miles from her home, Rachel had one of those rare moments of illumination that radiate backward into the past and forward into the future, shedding the light of clarity on corners formerly left dark and unexamined.

It wasn't Chloe that broke them up. It wasn't Mark. She and Ross hadn't needed any help destroying their relationship. They had plenty of ammo of their own.

__

The minute I stopped being just a waitress – the minute I found my own voice – the minute I became my own person – was the minute it ended for us.

"It's just a job." She heard Ross' voice in her mind. Just a job.

There was the truth, staring back at her from the screen. Ross hadn't wanted her to become a fully developed person with a mind of her own. No, he wanted an empty vessel to hold his fantasies, a blank canvas on which he could paint the future of his choice.

He wanted the girl on top of the pyramid in a Lincoln High cheerleader's uniform. The girl in the powder blue prom dress.

The girl she'd stopped being the day she ran out of her wedding.

Stop. Eject. Play.

There they were again. She looked at her hairstyle and knew it was after she'd moved in with Joey. They were together in the kitchen behind the action as Ross and Monica exchanged blue and silver wrapped Hannukah gifts for the camera with Chandler and Judy Geller looking on. 

She saw herself whispering something in Joey's ear. He whispered back and they both laughed. They moved freely about the kitchen, making sandwiches, constantly invading each other's personal space. Comfortable. Relaxed.

That's who she became with him. Someone who laughed at dirty jokes. Someone who could enjoy pizza out of the box and beer out of the can. 

With him, she was no longer the princess from Long Island. She was…herself.

Stop. Eject. Play.

The camera was zoomed in on her bulging pregnant abdomen. It panned slowly out to show her in the big chair at Monica's. Ross was on the floor beside her, explaining to Grandma that she was due in two months.

Joey and Phoebe sat on the couch, barely within the frame. Ross was focused on the camera, explaining in great detail how Rachel had forced him into discovering the sex of their baby by taking a peek at the doctor's chart after they'd agreed to wait until the birth. Rachel's pregnant self closed her eyes and groaned as the story went on. 

She watched Joey in the corner of the frame. He never took his eyes off her. He was in love with her. It was so evident – how had she missed it? She'd thought he was over it by that point, but now she could see that he wasn't. 

Rachel-in-the-video groused that her feet hurt. Joey immediately stood up and offered her the couch to lay on, then pulled her to her feet when she accepted. Ross continued talking to the camera, listing all the "horrible" names Rachel had suggested, including Rain and Sandrine.

And then she saw it. Jack swung the camera around and asked Rachel what she wanted to name the baby. She was sprawled out on the couch like a beached whale, her puffy, aching feet in Joey's lap, snarling a reply at the camera that Ross apparently looked at tombstones to select baby names.

She saw everything now. Joey loved her when she was at her worst – pregnant, angry, bloated and fatigued. He calmed her, always knowing just what to say or do to make it better. He had become her security blanket, her safe place, her voice of reason, her comfort zone. The place she went to hide from the world. The one thing that was right when everything else was going wrong.

She stopped the tape and covered her face with her hands, wondering how to get through the rest of her life without the peaceful harbor of Joey to shelter her from the storms.

~*~*~

"How much longer?" Rachel rearranged her seatbelt and tried to make herself comfortable for the hundredth time that day.

Ross checked his watch. "An hour and a half…two at the most."

Rachel sighed and craned her neck to look into the backseat of Mrs. Geller's antiquated Buick. Both children were asleep - Ben with his head resting on the car door, Emma in her car seat, mouth open and eyes tightly shut.

"_Why_ did I let you talk me into this?" Rachel snatched the map from the console and tried to find their location.

"You're the one who wanted to see the coastline. Maybe if you stopped complaining and tried to _learn_ something, you might surprise yourself by having a good time." 

"I didn't think that _seeing the coastline_ would mean an entire day stuck in a car with no air conditioning, and a trip to the Florida Fossil Museum." She folded the map and jammed it inside the console, closing it with a bang.

"Is it too much to ask that we expose Emma to something other than fashion shows and Barbie dolls?"

"Is it too much to ask that we ever, just once, do something _I_ want to do?"

Ross shook his head and pressed his lips together, forcing back a spiteful reply. He exhaled and looked out the windshield into the dark Florida night. "We're only going to be here 2 more days. Let's try to make this best of this, all right?"

"Fine." Rachel turned away and leaned her head on the window of the passenger side door, much like Ben in the backseat.

She was hot. She was tired. She was miserable. She couldn't even roll down the window to let some air in because the air brought too many mosquitoes with it. Instead of going shopping in South Beach, she'd spent yet another day on Ross' never ending quest to find science-related attractions, only to end up lost on a deserted road in the Florida backwoods. She was bored out of her mind and homesick.

__

Homesick for my real home, she told herself, a_partment #19._

She snuffed the thought out of her mind and turned back to the window, wondering what everyone in New York was doing. She pictured Phoebe, Monica, and Chandler settling in with bowls of popcorn to watch TV. She pictured Joey in his apartment, with the unwanted shadow of Lydia lurking around beside him.

Her musings were interrupted with a jolt when the Buick came to a grinding halt.

"What happened?" She unbuckled her seatbelt and checked the backseat. Ben was stirring, but Emma slept on.

"What's wrong, Dad? Why'd we stop?" Ben rubbed his eyes and sat up. "I'm thirsty."

"Don't know." Ross hit the accelerator and tried to start the car again. And again. And again.

Nothing.

"What is it?" Rachel handed Ben a bottle of water from the bag in the floorboard. "Can you fix it?"

"I don't know. I'm going to check under the hood." Ross got out and walked to the front of the car. 

Rachel tried not to roll her eyes. Asking Ross to diagnose a mechanical problem was like asking Phoebe to litter.

He came back in less than a minute. "I think it's an ignition problem."

"What does that mean?"

"It means we're stuck. We can't go any further."

"So what do we do now? Spend the night in the car with two kids?" Rachel smacked the dashboard with her hand. "I can't _believe_ you got us into this."

"Come on, Rachel - this car dates back to the Mesozoic era. Leave it to you to find a way to make this my fault."

"Dad…Aunt Rachel…please don't fight." Ben pleaded with them from the backseat. "You're going to scare Emma. Please?"

"We're not fighting, son." Ross shot Rachel a warning look. "We're just having a serious grown up conversation." He opened his door. "Which we're going to _continue_ outside. Watch your sister, ok?"

"Ok, Dad."

Rachel found herself standing by the trunk of the car. "If we're going to talk outside, at least get my can of insect repellent out of the trunk for me."

Ross turned the key and opened the trunk, pulling out his carefully packed emergency bag. He quickly located her can of spray. "Hold out your arms and turn around."

"I'm going to call a tow truck as soon as we're done with this," Ross said as he misted her with insect spray. "Can we please keep the arguing to a minimum in front of the kids? Carol will kill me if Ben goes home and tells her that we fought in front of him constantly."

"What else have you got in here?" Rachel pawed through his bag. "Power Bars…a radio…a flashlight…a blanket…you travel prepared, Dr. Geller."

"You have to respect the open road." Ross took his cell phone from his pocket and dialed information.

Rachel made herself comfortable and spread the blanket on the ground beside the road. While Ross spoke with the towing service, she scanned stations on his tiny portable radio, finally settling on one that promised "All 80's, All The Time!"

"They'll be here within an hour." Ross settled on the blanket next to her. "We should probably stay out here and let the kids sleep."

The awkwardness that had persisted between them during the past few days seemed like an intruder in the silent darkness. The quiet stretched between them while the minutes ticked away on Ross' watch, and still they found nothing to say to each other.

Rachel forced her mind from Joey and turned her eyes to Ross, who was staring out into the distance.

Distance. That was all there was between them anymore. Distance and the secret about Chloe she had yet to tell him.

She made an impatient sound and reached over to turn up the radio. Sting's voice blasted into the humid air.

__

Roxanne, you don't have to put on the red light  
Those days are over  
You don't have to sell your body to the night  
Roxanne, you don't have to wear that dress tonight  
Walk the streets for money  
You don't care if it's wrong or if it's right

Ross moaned and covered his eyes, falling to his back on the blanket.

"Ok. Enough of this." Rachel turned the radio down a notch. "What the hell is going on with you?"

He kept his hands over his eyes. "There's _nothing_ going on with me other than I'm trapped on the vacation from _hell_."

She ignored his excuse. "You're always thinking about something, you never listen to anything anyone says – it's like you're a million miles away."

He remained mute.

"Who is it, Ross? Is it Charlie?"

His tone was subdued when he answered. "No. It's not Charlie."

"Then what? If we're going to live together again, we have to be at least a _little_ honest with each other."

"I'm – " He squirmed on the blanket. "I'm worried about Phoebe."

Rachel went blank. "_Phoebe_?"

His mouth turned down. "She doesn't love David. I think she's ruining her life by marrying him."

Click went the missing link in Rachel's mind. "But he's the father of her baby."

Ross pulled himself up and shrugged. "So? She's not in love with him anymore. She should be with –" He cut himself off abruptly.

"Who, Ross? Who should she be with?"

"Someone who loves her the way she deserves to be loved." He looked up as a car rumbled down the road, headlights flashing then fading away.

"Let me see if I understand you. You're saying that two people shouldn't stay together for the sake of their child if they don't love each other?"

"Yes, that's what I –" He caught himself and looked up at Rachel. "Oh, no. Don't put those words in my mouth. I'm talking about _Phoebe_, not about us. We have this history together…"

Rachel took a deep breath. _No time like the present,_ she told herself.

"But what if – what if history is all we have?"

He leaned forward to tie his shoe, unresponsive to what she said.

"You know something, Ross? I've had a lot of time to think while I was here, and I've got something to tell you."

He faced her with a weary expression. "I'm listening…"

She squared her shoulders and braced herself. "Do you remember why we broke up?"

"Because we were on a break, and I slept with Chloe."

She nodded. "Yeah, that's what we told ourselves, wasn't it? But you want to know what I think? I think we broke up before that. Our relationship went on life support the day I quit Central Perk."

"What makes you think _that_?"

"You didn't trust me. And you didn't like the person I became when I had a job and my own identity. I make you crazy and jealous and possessive, you make me mean and angry and unforgiving. We didn't need Chloe and Mark to mess up our relationship. They just pulled back the curtain and showed us what was already there. It was over for us before they ever showed up."

"It wasn't that I didn't trust _you_. I didn't trust _him_. And –"

She stopped him. "Did you ever think that we were doomed to break up? That this thing with us wasn't meant to be?"

He let out a sigh. "Yeah, I've thought that. No matter how hard we try…it never works out."

"Maybe we fell in love with our own fairy tale." She reached across and took his hand. "It doesn't mean that what we had wasn't real…it just means that it was for a time. And that time has passed."

Tears filled his dark eyes. "It wasn't supposed to be a forever thing, was it?" He swallowed hard. "We've been trying all these years to make it forever, and killing ourselves in the process."

"I think the only way we're ever going to be ok is to let each other go." He nodded at her. "You know, Ross – the best thing we ever did is asleep right in there." She pointed at the backseat where Emma quietly slumbered.

He followed her gaze to the car. "It was worth all of this – everything we put each other through – to have her, wasn't it?"

"It was. She's the best part of both of us…of what we were together."

Rachel knew she owed him the full truth. She lowered her voice and continued. "There's something else. Something you need to know."

He raised his eyebrows, mildly alarmed. "What?"

She averted her eyes and twisted her hair around her finger. "I ran into Chloe a few days before we left New York…"

"Oh, God." Ross slumped down.

"No, it's not what you think." She said a quick prayer for serenity. "We had a long talk…there was a misunderstanding that night when you were with her."

"What the hell…" Ross leaned back and stared at her.

"You didn't have sex with her, Ross. She said you talked about me, and cried, and passed out in the bed with her. Nothing else happened."

Too shocked to speak, he sat on the blanket and searched his memory for a moment before responding. "But what about – everyone seemed to know. That Isaac guy, Jasmine, Gunther…"

Rachel interrupted. "Chloe and Isaac were having a thing, and she wanted to make him jealous. So she told everyone that she spent the night with you and let them draw their own conclusions. She assumed that you knew, and left the chips to fall where they may with the two of us."

Ross ran a hand through his dark hair, overwhelmed. "So we broke up…for _nothing_?"

"Don't you think it was a matter of time with us?"

He stood up and walked a few yards into the distance. Rachel sat, watching, wondering if he could ever forgive her for the mess they'd created.

He wandered back and sat down again after a few minutes. "There's no undoing this, is there? It's been too long and it went too far."

She shook her head no.

"I'm setting you free. From all the guilt you carried over a mistake you never made…you're free, Ross. Free from any responsibility over this. We both made mistakes – let's put it in the past and move on."

The song drifting from the radio startled them both.

__

See the stone set in your eyes

See the thorn twist in your side

I wait for you

Sleight of hand and twist of fate

On a bed of nails she makes me wait

And I wait without you

With or without you

With or without you

"Oh my God," Rachel whispered. Ross reached over and turned the volume up. 

"Dance with me…one last time." He stood up and extended a hand to her, which she took gladly. She sighed when he took her in his arms for one final dance.

__

Through the storm we reach the shore  
You give it all but I want more  
And I'm waiting for you

With or without you  
With or without you  
I can't live  
With or without you

That was it all along, she realized. They couldn't live with or without each other. The time had come to find something in the middle.

__

And you give yourself away  
And you give yourself away  
And you give  
And you give  
And you give yourself away

My hands are tied  
My body bruised, she's got me with  
Nothing to win and  
Nothing left to lose

And you give yourself away  
And you give yourself away  
And you give  
And you give  
And you give yourself away

With or without you  
With or without you  
I can't live  
With or without you

When the song ended he released her with an expression in his eyes she hadn't seen in years – Ross, her old friend. The Ross she'd known from high school. Ross, before they'd learned to sabotage each other.

"Now I'm setting you free." 

She wasn't sure she'd heard him right. "What?"

He repeated himself. "I'm setting you free. Go back to New York, fix this thing with Joey. I won't stand in your way, and I won't use Emma to punish you guys for it."

"I'm not sure it can _be_ fixed." She leaned against the car, breathless.

"You love him, don't you?"

She could barely speak. Her heart was beating so fast. "Yes."

"And he loves you. That's why you have to go back in the morning and make things right with him. I'm not going to let you lose him."

"But we're not scheduled to go back until two days from now."

He shook his head. "No, you're going back tomorrow alone. I'll stay here with the kids. You can't let a chance for happiness slip through your fingers trying to save something that can't be saved."

"You'll never know how much this means to me." She threw her arms around him, overcome with gratitude. "What made you change your mind?"

"It's wrong for two people to end up together when their child is the only thing left between them. We're never going to be happy together, Rach…it's always going to be a struggle." He gave her a half smile. "Aren't you tired of the struggle?"

"Joey loves Emma – you know that, don't you? He'll love her as much as he would his own daughter."

Ross shook his head. "I'm not worried about that. I've learned that it's possible to love the child because you love the mother." He looked over her shoulder at Emma and Ben. "Emma will be fine…I'll be fine. We're all going to work through this."

She wanted to ask him where he'd learned this new way of seeing things but the tow truck roared to a stop in front of them.

A burly man in a hideous shirt made from parrot print fabric climbed out of the cab. "Geller?" He spat a wad of tobacco on the ground.

"That's us." Ross walked around to the driver's side. 

"We'll have you going in just a minute here." His eyes shot over to Rachel, who was gathering the blanket and radio from the ground. "That is, if you guys are sure you're ready to move on."

Ross and Rachel exchanged a glance that said everything before Ross answered him. "We're ready."

~*~*~

"You'll call us as soon as you get there?" Ross took Emma from Rachel's arms, talking loud to be heard about the din at the gate.

"As soon as I've had a chance to talk to Joey, I'll call you." She kissed Emma's satin cheek one last time. "Be a good girl for Daddy…Mommy will see you in a few days."

"You better go, your flight is boarding now." Ross leaned over and hugged Rachel with his free arm. "Tell Joey…" 

"What?"

"Tell him we'll get together and watch a game or something when I get back." He gave her a friendly push. "Get outta here." With one final backward glance at Ross, Ben, and Emma, Rachel went to the plane that would take her back to New York…back to Joey.

She was going home.

~*~*~

The cab driver placed the last of Joey's bags in the trunk and slammed the lid shut before getting into the driver's seat.

Monica, Chandler, and Phoebe stood outside Central Perk. They were gathered there to tell Joey goodbye.

"I guess that's everything…" Joey looked at the three faces in front of him, wondering what his life would be like without them in it every day.

"It's not too late to change your mind." Monica's voice caught. "You can stay and think this over…change your flight."

"I can't." Joey engulfed Monica in a hug. "You have any idea how much I'm going to miss you and your cooking?"

"I know." Monica patted him on the back. "I know."

"And you…" Joey turned to Phoebe, who wrapped her arms around his neck. "I always thought you and me would be the last ones standing."

"I wish you could be here for the wedding…I wanted you to do the ceremony." Phoebe let go of him and wiped her eyes with her hand. 

Joey shook his head. "It'd be too soon. You understand."

She nodded. "You'll be back when the babies are born, won't you?"

"You won't be able to keep me away." He forced a smile. "You know, by then I'll be settled in L.A., and Rachel…" He couldn't pronounce her name without pain. "Rachel will be over all of this. She'll be fine."

"How will we know where to reach you?" Monica asked. "You cancelled your cell phone service, right?"

"Yeah, I did. I'll call you when I get to a hotel and give you the number. We'll always stay in touch, right guys?"

Everyone nodded reluctantly, silently acknowledging how things were about to change irrevocably.

Finally, Joey turned to Chandler. "Dude…"

"Come here." Chandler hugged Joey, glad that his friend couldn't see his face. "I think I'm gonna miss you most of all, Scarecrow."

"I thought I was the one who was supposed to say that." Joey pulled away and punched Chandler's shoulder. "You'll make sure that Rachel gets…"

Chandler nodded. "I'll see to it personally."

"That's it, then…" Joey put a hand on the car door.

"Wait!" Phoebe made a run for the coffee house door. "My ring!"

They watched through the window as Phoebe took a small pouch from her guitar case before returning outside.

"My crystal ring." She pulled it from inside the pouch. "I want you to have it."

"Because there aren't _enough_ people wearing crystals in California," Chandler observed.

"That was your mom's ring. I can't take this." Joey held the brilliant crystal ring in his hand. Phoebe had placed it on a long chain.

"I kept that ring with me during all my years on the street. It protected me. Now it's going to protect you." She took it from his hand and placed the chain around his neck. "Keep it close to you, and you'll always be safe."

The driver leaned out the window. "The meter's running here."

"Ok." Joey hugged Phoebe again. "I really have to go now…group hug?"

The four friends came together in one giant hug. When they separated, Joey put one hand on Phoebe's stomach and one on Monica's.

"Bye, babies." He looked up at the floor where apartments #19 and #20 were situated. "Bye, house." He cleared his throat and opened the car door. "Take care of Dina for me, ok guys?"

Everyone nodded. Joey climbed in and closed the door behind him.

"Airport," he told the driver. With a nod, the driver took off into the crowded street. 

Joey turned and waved at Chandler, Monica, and Phoebe through the back windshield, watching as they grew smaller and smaller until he couldn't see them anymore.

~*~*~

Rachel sat down in the back of the cab, frantic with impatience to get back home and see Joey.

The flight had been long and uncomfortable with an unexpected delay. She'd begun to wish she hadn't kept her return a secret. But then, she reasoned, the look of surprise on Joey's face would be worth the hassle.

"Where to?"

Rachel gave the driver the address and leaned back with a contented sigh. Within minutes, she'd be with Joey again and her life would make sense.

She half listened to the car radio droning on with the news. The stock market had done blah-blah-blah. Some politician had said blah-blah-blah. A movie had opened and bombed, only raking in blah-blah-blah at the box office. In local news, Flight #113 from New York to Los Angeles had crashed somewhere out west. She paused long enough to be thankful that her flight had arrived safely.

The news ended and Heather Nova sang "Nothing Heals Me Like You Do" from the radio. Rachel sang along, amusing the driver.

She was almost there. When rain began to fall from the sky, she was the happiest person in New York City.

After all, their first kiss had happened with rain pouring down outside. It was only right to come full circle.

When the cab stopped, she handed the driver a large bill and told him to keep the change. She took her bag and ran for the door.

She couldn't get up the stairs fast enough. They led to Joey.

~*~*~

The door was locked. Rachel had the uncomfortable feeling that Lydia might be in there. No matter – Lydia had ceased to be a factor. Rachel took the key from her purse and let herself into Joey's apartment.

It was dark. There wasn't a light on in the place. Rachel found the light switch from memory and turned it on.

Something was wrong. Everything looked the same, but different.

The furniture was all in place, but other things were missing. She treaded into the living room. The first thing she noticed was that Lydia's work station had been completely removed. She glanced to the entertainment center. Jessica's video games were gone. But oddly enough, so were all of Joey's movies and knick-knacks.

So were his magazines. So were all of the posters…

  
Rachel panicked and ran to the fridge, opening the door so fast that she nearly tore it from the hinges. Empty. She opened the freezer. Empty except for a battered copy of "Little Women".

She pulled the frozen book out with a gasp. Her mind worked frantically for an answer to what had happened but nothing came to her.

She heard the front door opening and turned with a smile, expecting to see Joey walking in as if nothing were wrong. Instead she saw Chandler, who looked as if things were very much wrong.

"You came home early." His voice set of an alarm in Rachel's head.

"Yes – Chandler, what on earth happened here? Where is all of Joey's stuff? For that matter, where's Joey?"

Chandler put his hands in his pockets and shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable. "He's gone, Rach."

"Gone? What do you mean, _gone_?"

"He took a movie offer in Los Angeles…he said you knew about it." Chandler stared at the floor.

"But – he didn't even say goodbye to me!"

"He said it would be too hard for you guys to say goodbye again." Chandler forced himself to meet Rachel's eyes. "He's not coming back."

"But he has to come back. Ross and I –" She stopped, too stunned to explain. Her eyes swept the apartment and she turned to Chandler with her suspicions. "If he's gone, why is all of his furniture still here?"

Chandler shrugged and sighed in a way that struck fear in Rachel's heart. "Dina is going to move in here and sublet from him. He left his furniture for her…she doesn't have much stuff of her own, and apparently Bobby doesn't help her out much."

The memory of a pizza dinner with Dina came back to Rachel in a flash. Dina's request for a place to live, should Rachel ever move out.

"But..but what about "Days Of Our Lives"?"

"They said they'd shoot around him for a while. He has time off for other projects built into his contract. If things don't work out in L.A., he'll have a job to come back to." Seeing the hope in Rachel's eyes, Chandler hurried his next words. "But Rachel, seriously, he says he's not coming back. He wants you to be able to go on with your life."

"He _is_ my life!" She dropped the book and went into his bedroom. It had been stripped down to the bare minimum. Boxes were neatly stacked in the corner. She heard Chandler's footsteps behind her. "What's all this?" She pointed to the boxes.

"That's his stuff. He just took his clothes with him. When he gets a place out there, Dina's going to ship all of this to him."

"This is crazy. This has to be undone, somehow. I'm going to call his cell right now." She ran out of Joey's room and made a dash for the phone. 

"He cancelled it." Chandler followed her to the kitchen.

"Ok, then, what's his new number in L.A.?"

"We don't have it yet." 

Rachel headed for her old room. Chandler went after her. "Rachel, wait."

She opened the door. There was her old bed. The room was dark and she could almost make out the shape of something resting at the head of the bed.

"He left something for you…he trusted me with the job of giving it to you, so _please_ let me do this right, ok?"

Rachel stood still and waited as Chandler got the item from the bed and handed it to her, flipping the light switch.

When light flooded the room, Rachel could see that the warm, soft object in her hands was Hugsy.

"Oh my God." She backed away from Chandler and sat down on the bed.

"He wanted you to give Hugsy to Emma…" Chandler looked closer. Rachel was crying.

He sat down beside her and put an arm around her. "It's going to be ok, Rachel. He did this for you. He thought this was the only way you and Ross would ever have any peace."

Rachel couldn't tell Chandler that she and Ross had found peace and that Joey was the next step in their treaty.

Chandler continued, trying valiantly to comfort her. "I bet he's getting off the plane right now. We'll hear from him tonight and you can tell him whatever is on your mind." He stopped and chuckled. "Hey, if you can talk him into coming back, I'll be the last guy to object."

An ominous feeling began to float through Rachel's mind. "You said he'd be arriving about now."

"Yeah. His flight left this morning."

"This morning." Rachel plundered her memory, terror surging through her. What had she heard in the cab? A flight from…

She stood up and shouted something incoherent. Chandler jumped to his feet. "What? Rachel, calm down! What is it?"

"What was his flight number?" She ran for the door, to what or from what she didn't know.

"I don't know. Why does _that_ matter?"

"Chandler, what was his damn flight number? Get it for me _now_." It was unthinkable…it couldn't be…

Chandler was shaking. "Monica has it written down somewhere. I'll get it if you'll tell me why the hell you're shrieking like a banshee."

"There was a plane crash! For God's sake, haven't you heard about it on the news?"

Chandler bolted for his apartment, he and Rachel tumbling over each other to get through the door. 

"Turn on the news!" Phoebe and Monica looked up from the couch, shocked at Rachel's wild eyes and screaming voice.

"We're watching Food TV." Monica dismissed them with a roll of her eyes.

"Monica, turn on the damn news!" Chandler knocked over the stack of notes beside the phone, tearing through the papers.

"Here it is, here it is." His hands shook so that he could hardly read the page. "Flight number 113 from New York to Los Angeles."

Rachel gripped the back of the couch for support as the news anchor spoke from the television in a smooth, undisturbed tone. A satellite photo inset showed burning wreckage. The white caption along the bottom of the screen read:

"Flight 113 From NY To LA Down Over Colorado, All Onboard Feared Lost"

As the screams of the other three shredded the air, Rachel collapsed to the floor in a pitiful heap.

****

A/N: Trust me! It's all going to be ok! Everything will be resolved in the next chapter! **I do everything for a reason and there's a reason for this. TRUST ME!!!!**


	17. Someday Is Tonight

****

Past & Present

Past & Present

Chapter 14: Someday Is Tonight

DISCLAIMER: Don't own them, but quite happy about all the recent spoilers.

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Only one more chapter to go after this! The song used in this chapter is "I Want You To Want Me", originally by Cheap Trick, and later covered by Letters To Cleo. Or something like that. The title of the chapter is from a song of the same name by Janet Jackson (listen to it when you read the chapter for an enhanced experience!). More author's note at the end of the chapter.

Read, review, and enjoy!

~*~*~

__

"I want you to want me" Ross sang, picking out the melody of the song on the rickety upright piano.

__

"I need you to need me"

Ross glanced over his shoulder. The door to the recreation hall at his grandmother's retirement community was closed. He had the place to himself. 

The clock on the wall above the piano caught his eye. Rachel and Joey should be knee deep in their reunion right about…now.

But it didn't bother him. Amazingly enough, the only feeling he could conjure up was one of vague envy that they finally had each other. Meanwhile, he had no one.

He sat there scratching out a song on the piano, knowing Phoebe and David would be married in two weeks.

__

"I'd love you to love me

I'm begging you to beg me"

All she had to do was ask, he thought impatiently. If she wanted someone to hold her hand, to help her through pregnancy and labor, even to help her raise Roxanne – all she had to do was ask.

He was ready, willing, and able.

__

"I want you to want me

I need you to need me

I'd love you to love me

I'll shine up the old brown shoes, put on a brand-new shirt

I'll get home early from work if you say that you love me…"

He stopped, off-key. How could she marry David when she didn't love him anymore? When, for years, Phoebe had been _everything_ to him? Best friend, shoulder to cry on, consolation – soul mate.

Now she would be David's everything. And Ross would have to sit by and watch, knowing that the person who'd been his rock had other obligations.

If she'd just wake up and see it – see that the only people who understood either one of them was each other.

He began to bang out the tune on the piano.

__

"Didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you cryin'?

Oh, didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you cryin'?

Feelin' all alone without a friend, you know you feel like dyin'

Oh, didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you cryin'?"

The familiar tone of his cell phone drowned out the piano's feeble music. He picked it up and looked at the caller ID.

It was Phoebe's cell number.

His heart climbed into his throat when he answered it.

"Pheebs?"

"Yeah, it's me." He could hear her breathing over the line.

__

Say you changed your mind. Say you're not going to marry David.

"Look, Ross…something terrible has happened."

He turned to the window by instinct to look at his children. Ben and Emma were on the beach with his grandmother's attendant.

"What? Is it the baby? Are you ok?"

"No, it's not me. I'm fine, Roxanne is fine. Ross…"

"Phoebe, just tell me."

"It's Joey."

~*~*~

Dim sounds filtered in and out of Rachel's consciousness. Half-lucid impressions pushed against each other her mind, trying to force their way to the surface.

The montage spun back and forth behind her closed eyes. The radio in the cab, Joey's deserted apartment, the yellow sheet of paper with his flight number written in Monica's hand, the burning wreckage on the TV screen.

It changed speeds. Chandler's voice grew slower until it sounded like a fiend over the loudspeaker at a haunted house on Halloween. 

She rolled over, realizing that she was still on the Aero bed in Monica's future nursery, in the exact spot where Chandler had left her after he'd carried her in there.

The monotone of a twenty-four hour cable news station carried itself from the living room. They'd even come up with an ominous yet catchy instrumental theme song for the crash, coming back from each commercial break by launching into its eerie strain.

The crash. Joey…

The onslaught of memories was too much to bear. Her mind simply shut down.

~*~*~

Phoebe let herself back into Monica's apartment from the hallway. 

"Did you talk to him?" Monica removed the wad of Kleenex from her eyes to look at Phoebe.

"He's waiting by the phone…he said when we know something…"

Monica's eyes shifted to the balcony, where Chandler had a cigarette in one hand and a phone in the other. "It could be a while before we know anything. The airline isn't taking any calls, the police said they have to notify the families first…so Chandler is talking to Joey's mom right now."

Phoebe flopped down on the couch beside Monica. "What about –" She pointed at the closed door of the room occupied by Rachel.

Monica shook her head. "Not good."

"I don't know what's worse, waiting to find out what happened to him, or watching this happen to her." Phoebe's face crumpled. "Mon, if anything has happened to him…I don't know what will happen to _us_."

Monica put her arms around Phoebe. "I know." 

The goldfish cracker commercial ended, cueing up the news anchor. "Returning now to continuous coverage of the crash of flight 113…"

Phoebe and Monica burst into tears.

~*~*~

Hours had passed and still, the vigil continued.

Chandler paced the balcony, jumping through his skin every time the phone rang. He had cursed a telemarketer to hell and back and smoked his way through his only pack of hidden cigarettes.

Monica hadn't objected. "Hey, if you run out, I'll buy you another pack." She'd handed him her kitchen lighter when his stopped working.

He'd talked to Joey's sobbing, hysterical mother, who knew nothing. He'd called Lydia and dealt with her caustic anger over being relegated to web designer instead of live-in personal assistant. She hadn't heard from Joey and wasn't even aware of the plane crash. Chandler didn't tell her. He simply asked her to let him know if she heard from Joey and hung up when she launched into another tirade about her certainty that Rachel had convinced Joey to end their working relationship.

Chandler sighed. Lydia was one person he wouldn't miss.

He glanced in the window at his wife and friend.

Phoebe, curled up in the big chair, had fallen into a deep sleep – a combination of emotional exhaustion and early pregnancy. 

Monica sat like a statue in front of the TV, as if she expected to see Joey somehow climb out of that hideous disaster and wave at the camera.

Rachel hadn't stirred from her bedridden stupor in hours.

If anyone _could_ climb out of that mess, it would be Joey. Chandler shook his head, thinking of all the times when Joey had been the one with all the common sense. Unlocking the cab door with a bra wire – turning off the heater at the Christmas party from hell…

A glimmer of hope sparked inside Chandler like the last flicker from his cigarette lighter. His best friend – his _brother_ in every sense of the word – had to come through this. Somehow, some way…

He let himself in when it began to rain again, standing by the open window and staring out at the downpour. 

Chandler refused to give up hope. Or, as he ruefully reflected to himself, hope refused to give up Chandler.

~*~*~

Rachel gasped and sat up on the bed.

A nightmare. She'd had a nightmare. Disoriented, she fumbled for the lamp beside her bed and turned it on.

The light hurt her eyes. "Where am I?" She swept the room with narrowed eyes. Monica's spare room. The TV was on in the living room, loud and repetitious. It was raining outside.

Then she knew. It was no nightmare.

Her shocked mind came back to full awareness and she began to shake uncontrollably. 

He was gone, gone and never coming back. Never coming home, never coming back to her. Never. The word carried with it a new finality she'd never experienced before.

She would never see him again.

Her eyes dragged themselves to the door with a will of their own. She'd never look up to see him bursting through a door again without knocking.

She'd hate doors for the rest of her life if he couldn't walk through hers just one more time.

Her hand touched the bed beneath her and memory charged in with the force of an invasion. She saw herself crawling into bed with him the night she'd decided to move back in with Ross. The way his eyes met hers in the darkness, the way he felt when she wrapped her arms around him. How he'd offered her comfort with no strings attached and let her fall asleep beside him.

The look on his face when she'd turned back for one last glance in the hall, after she'd ended it…

She gaze returned to the door. Opening the door of room 1202 and seeing him standing on the other side with such hope in his eyes, hope that they'd finally find a way to be together.

She heard someone weeping. It took a moment for her to recognize the sound was her own voice. 

Every look, every word, every touch rushed back to her, refusing to let her forget. They demanded to be remembered then and there. Too weak from grief and pain to fight it, she gave in and let despair crush her with its relentless weight.

The door opened slowly and Phoebe's face appeared. Without a word, Phoebe joined Rachel on the bed. "Rachel?"

Rachel's mourning had no room for intruders.

"Rachel? Look at me."

When Rachel's eyes remained closed, tears pouring forth like a waterfall, Phoebe continued.

"I just woke up from a nap, and I have the most peaceful feeling." 

No acknowledgement. Phoebe shrugged. "I think he's all right." She leaned in to whisper, as if confiding a great secret. "I gave him my lucky ring."

Rachel opened an eye and stared at Phoebe. _Ah, breakthrough,_ Phoebe congratulated herself.

"What ring?" Rachel raised herself up on an elbow.

"You know, my crystal ring, the one that belonged to my mom. I gave it to Joey before he left."

Rachel confirmed that it wasn't on Phoebe's hand like it usually was. "But – how does that have anything to do with –" her voice broke.

"It will keep him safe. It always kept me safe, and I had a lot of close calls. Believe me, you do _not_ want to see my rap sheet." Phoebe smiled, more than a little of her trademark humor in evidence.

Rachel gave Phoebe a patient but feeble smile. "Sweetie – as much as we all want to find some hope – I don't think a ring could save anyone from…" She couldn't finish. A flashback of the crash site turned her stomach and halted her words.

"Oh, well, you nonbelievers will be eating some crow when I turn out to be right." Phoebe stood up and smoothed down her long skirt. "I'm going to go make some tea for all four of us, and you're going to drink it."

Rachel watched Phoebe exit, her skirt swirling around her like a cloud. If only Phoebe could be right for once…she'd make a thousand deals with God if Joey could come back to her.

It felt like the burning, twisted wreck had occurred inside her. Rachel put her head down on the pillow and counted her heartbeats, tears rolling down her face unchecked.

~*~*~

Phoebe reached into the cupboard and took out four mugs, checking out of habit to see the numbers on the bottom of each. She removed the lid from Monica's perfectly organized tea caddy and selected four bags of Orange Spice flavor, humming the tune to "Sticky Shoes" as she worked.

Chandler had given up his watch on the balcony and had fallen asleep on the couch. Monica remained on the floor in front of the TV.

The tea kettle whistled. Phoebe turned off the burner beneath it then looked up when a loud knock sounded on the door.

She shot a glance to Monica, who stood up and crossed the room in a few steps. She shrugged at Phoebe before looking through the peephole.

"Oh my _God_!" Monica looked back at Phoebe, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

She opened the door and a familiar nasal voice cut through the silence like a dagger.

"Monica Bing!"

Chandler sat up like a shot. "Janice?"

"Hey, hey, Bing-a-ling!" Janice barged through the door. 

Monica gave Chandler a look that said 'I'll handle this'. "Janice, this _really_ isn't a good time…"

Janice brushed off Monica's words with a hand. "Time, shmime. I brought you something from the airport." She announced it in a sing-song voice followed by a braying laugh.

Chandler stood up, face reddening. "I don't know what you're here for, Janice, but airports are _not_ a good subject with us today."

Janice tossed her hair, her earrings jangling. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger! I was just giving Joey a ride home, and we decided to go to New Haven –"

Phoebe turned over the kettle, scalding water going everywhere. "Oh my God!"

Chandler jumped over the back of the couch and grabbed Janice's arm. "What? Joey?"

"Down, big boy." Janice laughed again. "I was dropping Sid off at the airport, and ran into Joey – he was looking for some ring that used to be yours –" She pointed at Phoebe. "Then we got to talking…and –"

"Stop. You mean Joey is _alive_?"

"Of course he's alive. What else would he be?" Janice cackled. "Chandler Bing, you're always such a drama queen!"

Rachel appeared in the doorway of the bedroom like a ghost slowly finding its way to the land of the living.

Chandler shook Janice's arm slightly. "Where the hell _is_ he then?"

"Don't be such a grouch. He's downstairs, parking my Lexus so I wouldn't have to walk in the rain. Isn't he the sweetest? You know he-"

They were all interrupted when Rachel ran across the room and bounded out the door.

"Where's the fire, honey?" Janice called after her. "Ah, love…we remember what it was like…right Chandler?" She laughed and gave him a knowing wink.

~*~*~

Down the stairs two at a time. The sound of her feet pounding the stairs competed with her heart racing in her ears.

She slammed herself against the exit door to push it open and hit the wet sidewalk with both feet. 

She stopped, rain pelting her from every direction while she scanned the street with her eyes. She didn't see a Lexus or Joey anywhere.

She ran down the sidewalk, raindrops hitting her face, coating her hair, soaking her shirt. She reached the corner and ran without looking at the crossing light.

The hazy form of a silver car and a guy with dark hair behind the wheel appeared in her line of vision. She raced down the sidewalk. She couldn't get there fast enough. She would only believe he was real when she could put her arms around him.

She missed falling into a puddle by an inch. A horn honked at her when she crossed the street. She heard the shouts of a cab driver telling her to watch what she was doing. She didn't look back.

Rain splashed up from the curb when she stepped down, saturating the hem of her jeans. The car was directly across from her. There was no mistaking it. Joey had just stepped out of the car.

He glanced up and did a double take at the sight of Rachel running toward him, drenched in rain and looking as if she'd seen a supernatural apparition.

She hurled herself at him, wrapping her arms around him in a grip that nearly knocked him over. He was warm and alive and _hers_, forever.

"Rach! What's wrong?" He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back to look down at her face. "What are you doing here?"

"I lied to you!" She shouted above the sounds of traffic and sirens and rain that hummed like white noise. "That night at the restaurant, when I said I didn't believe in soul mates anymore. I lied to you!"

He shook his head, droplets of rain flying from his black hair. "I don't –"

She interrupted. "You're mine – you're my soul mate – you always have been and you always will be. I've been lying to both of us, pretending that you're not."

Concern and shock mixed in his face. "But – but what about –"

"What about what? None of that means anything now." She stood on her tiptoes to stare into his eyes. "You've come back to me! That's all that matters, and as long as we live, nothing will ever keep us apart." 

He didn't answer her with words. Instead he pulled her against him for a kiss that made what happened at the door of room 1202 seem restrained, both heedless of the rain that poured down around them.

~*~*~

"Start at the beginning." Monica sat down in the big chair with Chandler. "You got to the airport, checked your baggage, and went to a restroom. Then what?"

Phoebe finished wrapping a blanket around Joey and Rachel, who sat beside each other on the couch. They were both dripping with rain and for once Monica wasn't concerned about her white couch.

Rachel wrapped her hand around his and put her head on his shoulder. He smiled at her, still dazed at this sudden turn of events.

"I went to the bathroom and I was washing my hands. I looked in the mirror and noticed that Phoebe's ring was gone." He turned to look at Phoebe, who was perched on the arm of the couch. "I'm really sorry I lost your ring, Pheebs."

"It did its job and has gone on to a better place." Phoebe shrugged with a philosophical smile. 

"I thought maybe it had fallen down the drain. The chain broke, or something. So I got a maintenance guy in there to stick this wire thing down the drain – it took like an hour to get him in there, then I don't know _how_ long we spent digging in the drain." He shuddered. "Really gross stuff in there. Anyway, by that time I had missed my flight."

"Thank God," Rachel whispered before kissing his cheek, leaving a perfect lipstick mark.

"Then what?" Monica leaned forward.

"Needless to say, all my clothes went with the plane. So I reported that to the airline and gave them Estelle's number to reach me. Then I went to this little restaurant inside the airport and bought a sandwich. I was just going to have a snack then go book another flight, but –" He paused.

Rachel propped her chin on his shoulder. "But what, sweetie?"

He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a wrinkled pink envelope. "I read this."

Rachel gasped. "My letter!" She reached to take it from him and he held it out of her reach.

"Uh-uh, I'm keeping this." He put it back in his pocket. 

"Wait a minute." Monica raised her voice an octave. "You read that letter and it stopped you from getting on another flight?"

Joey nodded. "Every page, front and back."

Rachel hugged him, so happy that it scared her.

"How could I leave, after reading this? I knew I had to come back and give it another try."

"That's where I came in." Janice stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind her. "I had just dropped Sid off – he's on a business trip in Baltimore – and I saw Joey sitting alone, reading this letter in the snack bar. So I went over to him and said, 'Three for three, Joey – it's your turn now!'" Janice laughed, sitting down at the end of the couch.

Joey gave a forced chuckle. "I gotta tell you guys, I love this woman!" He pointed at Janice, who threw her head back and laughed, then he turned to Chandler and mouthed the words 'no I don't' emphatically.

"I got him to confess…he told me all about the movie deal, and Rachel, and Ross – the whole story. I told him he had to give her another chance, that sooner or later everyone would come to their senses and end up with the right people." Janice swung her dark hair, letting it fall around her leopard clad shoulders. "Then we looked around the airport for Phoebe's ring, retracing his steps…never found it." She turned to Phoebe. "Sorry, honey."

"Never mind about the ring. Why didn't you just come home right then?"

"I walked Janice to her car, and she offered to give me a ride home. Then she mentioned she was heading up to Connecticut to buy lottery tickets…"

"So I proposed Joey And Janice's Day Of Fun, Part Two!" Janice howled.

"That's when I decided to go up to Connecticut with her and buy you guys some lottery tickets. I was feeling lucky." Joey reached into his other pocket and produced a handful of tickets.

"You _are_ lucky." Rachel felt as if she would never tire of looking at him.

Monica and Phoebe both reached for them. "No way." Joey stopped them with a hand before giving the tickets to Rachel. "She's going to hang on to these until the drawing. Learned the hard way that you two can't be trusted with lottery tickets."

"Ok." Chandler interrupted. "I understand going to Connecticut. But didn't you turn on the radio? You really didn't know your flight had crashed until we told you about it?"

"I never listen to the radio in the car." Janice batted her eyes at Chandler. "I only listen to mix tapes. Custom made."

"Skipping over that…" Monica threw Chandler a silencing glance. "You're telling us it took you that whole time just to buy lottery tickets?"

"Well…" Joey hedged. "We didn't just drive to the state line like you and me did that time. We went over to New Haven so we could get pizza."

"We went to Sally's!" Janice gloated. "And we split a pitcher of beer and a pizza, then we had to wait until I sobered up enough to drive us back!"

"How did you stand having a meal with her?" Rachel whispered in Joey's ear.

"That's what the beer was for," he whispered back to her.

"Then we drove back here, and it was pouring rain, so Joey offered to park the car for me. He let me out at the door, and I came up here." Janice leaned back, satisfied at getting to play such a large part in Joey's averted disaster. "And here we are."

"Here we are," Rachel echoed, squeezing Joey's hand.

Everyone was quiet for a moment, pondering the nearly miraculous events the day had brought.

"As much as I hate to do this…" Joey cast a longing glance at Rachel. "I've got to go to Queens. My mother and sisters made me promise I'd come see them as soon as I dried off." He shed the blanket and rose to his feet. "Walk me to the door?" He extended his hand to Rachel.

She took it and stood up. "I'm going with you."

His face registered surprise. "You sure?"

She tightened her grasp around his hand. "You're never getting away from me again."

"Awww," Janice cooed in the background.

"Then we better go, if we're going to catch the train." They headed for the door, hand in hand.

"Wait!" Monica jumped to her feet and rushed past them to get something from her purse. "Take the Porsche." She tossed the keys to Joey.

"You trust me with your car after the spaghetti incident?"

Monica grinned. "I think we've all taken enough chances with public transportation for one day."

"Go before she changes her mind." Rachel muttered under breath.

The stepped into the hall and closed the door behind them. Neither quite knew what to say. 

Rachel finally broke the silence. "This is where we said goodbye."

"Not something I like to remember." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Is this really happening?"

She put her arms around him and drew him in for a kiss.

After a few seconds he pulled away. "What was that for?"

One corner of her mouth turned up. "For never having to say goodbye again."

~*~*~

"I told you, they always take out their feelings in the kitchen." Joey unlocked the door to apartment #19 and held it open for Rachel. She followed him inside and waited while he opened the fridge. "I don't think we'll need to cook for a few days."

"I don't think I'll be able to _eat_ for a few days." Rachel placed the leftovers in the fridge with a groan. "Was it just me, or was every known Italian dish on that table?"

"Pretty much." He looked at her suitcases, which were beside the bar where she'd left them. "I guess you came here first when you got back."

She nodded, watching him taking a seat in the recliner. She felt calm and peaceful, as if the hand of destiny had guided her to this place, this moment, this person.

The right time had been waiting to arrive. And it was finally here.

She half listened while he told her how much his mother liked her, how even the bad tempered Cookie had given Joey her approval regarding their relationship. Mostly she looked at him, seeing her future, knowing that the rest of her life was beginning right now.

This would be the person she spent the rest of her life with, the father of her future children. She'd had her last date, her last first kiss, and she couldn't be happier about it.

He continued talking about his sisters. She opened a drawer and took out a notebook and pen, flipping it open to a blank page, on which she wrote three words:

"DO NOT DISTURB!"

She put the cap back on the pen and fished a roll of tape out of the back of the drawer before strolling to the front door with the sign in her hand. 

She flung open the front door and taped the sign securely beneath the #19 and closed it.

He stood up from the recliner. "Need me to help you carry your bags across to Monica's?"

"Phoebe is staying in that room while David's in Moscow." She leaned against the door, looking at him.

"If you're not going home, where are you gonna sleep tonight?"

She locked the door with a click. "I'm staying here tonight." She turned and secured the chain on the door. "And I _am_ home."

He instantly became nervous and jittery. "Rach – all my clothes were on that plane. I don't have anything to sleep in tonight."

"You won't need anything." She stepped closer to him, reaching to one side and shutting off the ringer on the phone.

"But – " 

She stood toe to toe with him and placed a finger across his lips. "Don't talk."

"Are you – " His face was a question.

She interrupted. "Yes." She placed her hands on the back of his neck and kissed him. "It's time."

He returned her kiss, holding her like he'd never let go. She became aware that they were moving backwards, then he took one hand off her to reach behind him and open the door to his room.

He pulled her shirt over her head in one movement. Everything else she had on hit the floor with his clothes following in rapid succession.

And then she was falling backward onto his bed.

Her senses were enveloped in a strange blur, one running into another like a watercolor painting left out in the rain. 

She knew without reason that they wouldn't be interrupted this time. Their relationship would be permanently changed. But they were ready.

His hands explored every inch of her bare skin, awakening feelings long dormant. When he kissed her again, his tongue swirling around hers, it was like springtime when everything bursts into color after the cold gray death of winter.

Her body was more than alive beneath his touch, hypersensitive to everything he was doing, everything he was making her feel. The rush of emotion she experienced was starting. She'd known it would be amazing. She hadn't known it would make every other experience she'd ever had seem like a prelude to this and she felt unequal to it. Sheer physical limitations would constrain her ability to pour out the depths of her feelings. Her body couldn't serve the intensity they were creating, increasing with every second.

She whispered his name and his body responded. Urgency surged through her and she gasped when he settled himself on top of her. He was attentive, making sure her needs were met and that she was ready. But they had forever to be leisurely. She couldn't wait anymore tonight. 

"Joey, now…" She wrapped a leg around him and pushed herself against him. 

His hands were on her breasts and his lips showered her face with kisses. "I'm not ready for it to be over."

"I don't want to wait. I'm feeling too much…" She brushed her lips against his then deepened the kiss with a precise demand. "We have forever to take it slow. We have all night…"

She moved her hand over his back then under him, touching him that way for the first time. He moaned and she curled her other leg around him, undulating beneath him in a way that would make it impossible for him to resist. 

She drew a deep breath when he joined his body to hers. Motionless, he looked down at her, allowing them both to savor the enormity of the moment. 

Almost unconsciously, she moved slightly beneath him. "Don't," he mumbled against her lips. "Don't move. Let me do everything."

He rocked back and forth against her, timing each movement to the cadence of their fevered kisses. He smoothed one hand down her side, sliding it underneath her and cradling her closer to him. She couldn't still her shaking. The strength of her response was unnerving. 

He quickened his movements and she knew she was going to cross the threshold any second. "I'm so close…" She ran her fingers through his hair. "So close…"

"Want me to stop and slow it down?" He paused, perfectly still. She'd never seen him breathe so fast.

"Don't stop." She trailed her fingertips over his face. "I love you."

"I love you more." His eyes locked onto hers. "I love you so much that it scares me."

"You don't love me more." She raised her face to his for a searching kiss. "You don't have to be scared. We're not going to lose each other again." 

He sank against her and resumed, his pace slower now. She tried to catch every single sensation and hold on to it, but the pressure inside her was fighting rational thought as it built to a thundering crescendo.

She opened her eyes again to look at him. His face was inches from hers, his dark eyes closed and an expression of concentration unfamiliar to his features took her by surprise. She'd never seen him look like that before.

But then, she'd never done this with him before.

Pictures of the two of them together flowed from her memory, blowing past her like autumn leaves carried about by the wind - each one passing too fast to do anything more than grab the occasional stray. The rest drifted by with only an indistinct impression left in their wake.

Her mind turned these things over as her body shot forth into the stratosphere, taking him right along with her. For a few seconds she was mindless, defiant of gravity. The feel of his weight resting on her brought her back. 

She put her arms around him, a strange motherly desire to comfort him supplanting the raging passion of a few moments before.

"I meant it when I said I love you." She put her hand under his chin, making him look at her. "How do you feel?"

He rested his head on her chest. "Overwhelmed."

She was sated but not ready to relinquish this interlude to the past. She shifted just enough to reach his mouth again and kissed him, her tongue tangling with his. 

"I can't, not yet." He frowned, embarrassed.

"Let me help you out." She reached beneath the sheet. 

"No, just give me a few minutes." He rolled away so he could see her. "This is…different."

"Different good?"

"You know when you said you were feeling too much?"

She nodded, stroking the side of his face with her hand. "I'm still feeling it."

He brought her hand to his lips for a kiss. "It's like I feel so much that I'm not big enough to contain it. Like I need to _do_ something with it. You know what I mean?" He shook his head, aware of his lack of clarity.

"I know _exactly_ what you mean." She inched closer. 

He engulfed her in an embrace, kissing her with a ferocity that erased her thoughts. They rolled from one side of his bed to the other, united in an unbroken kiss. The mattress springs creaked in protest. The rain outside had slowed to drizzle against the windowpane. All these things wove themselves into the experience, adding oddly colored threads to the tapestry. 

She felt him nudging against her again, ready. Without a word she positioned herself, inviting him. He eagerly returned.

This time was slower out of necessity. Her body was desensitized from the previous encounter, but it wasn't the physical pleasure she was after at this point. It was the closeness, the oneness with him that mattered.

But little by little, her enjoyment began to increase. The feeling was vast and expansive, like she was the ocean and he was the tide rolling in. He began to kiss her again, and she was aware of a strange sense of the eternal happening between them. It wasn't the fleeting passion of a heated sexual fling. Her senses surprised her by throwing her over the edge with a sudden kick.

She waited for him to find his release and when he did, she rolled them both over on their sides. 

"Don't," she protested when he tried to draw back. "Stay like this." She put his hands on her breasts and threw her leg over his side. "How long have we been in here?" She lowered her head to kiss his chest.

"I don't know what time it is. I packed the clock." His voice was shaky and his breathing uneven. "Did you –"

"Oh yeah." She smiled. "Didn't you?"

He rolled his eyes. "What do _you_ think?" He ran a hand over her rear end. "I can give you another turn when you're ready."

She placed her hand over his pounding heart. "As good as that sounds…I don't want tonight to be about turns…I want us to be together." 

"I want that too." He cradled her against him and they lay in comfortable silence.

"Rachel?"

"What, sweetie?"

He rolled her over again and started for a third time. It was insane. They were no longer having sex for the point of sex itself but for some other unarticulated reason. What they were doing seemed barely connected to sex anymore. 

They somehow got completely turned around sideways on the bed, her head hanging off the edge. She tried to wiggle back around but she got too swept up in the sensations of it all. 

"Oh, God…Joey…" She heard a crash but didn't turn her head to investigate. 

"Monica and Chandler are going to hear you," he cautioned. She bit down on his shoulder, digging her nails into his back when he brought her around with more force than the previous two times combined.

~*~*~

The night passed. At times they slept. They talked a lot, nonsensical conversation that neither would recall the next day. A jumble of words, certain phrases highlighted here and there. One would fall asleep, then the other would speak and they'd both be awake again. They made love over and over again, both of them too tired to feel anything but still needy.

When light pierced through her eyelids, Rachel woke up again, the sheet draped loosely over her. Joey was less than a foot away, the other half of the sheet barely reaching his waist. 

She raised up and looked around. The bed was a mess, the fitted sheet pulled away at one corner, the bedspread and blanket in a wad on the floor along with their clothes.

The lamp, which normally sat on his bedside table, lay in pieces on the floor. 

She sat up, every muscle screaming out with soreness. An angry bite mark on Joey's shoulder glared back at her, nicely juxtaposed with a few scratches along his back.

She raised her hand to the side of her head and touched it gingerly. She'd hit it on the headboard, so hard that she'd literally seen stars for a few seconds.

She didn't know what time it was and she didn't care. She eased herself back under the sheet and looked at him sleeping peacefully beside her.

The rain had finally stopped, and their new life had begun. 

~*~*~

****

A/N: Only one more chapter left. I still need to resolve Ross and Phoebe, and enjoy a little J&R happiness after all the torture they've been through. I'd also consider doing a "three years later" epilogue, if there's enough interest. 

As for this chapter… talk about pressure! I think expectations for this chapter would be almost impossible to live up to, so I just shut all that off and decide to write the BIG SCENE the way I wanted it written. I have to say, it was one of the most challenging scenes I've ever written in my entire writing life. 

Having said that – PLEASE don't email me and complain that it wasn't graphic enough. I think the detail is appropriate for this story. I have written plenty of very explicit J&R fics recently (you know where to find them, heehee!) and that just wasn't right for this story. I was much more concerned on conveying how the felt than graphic descriptions of what they were doing. 

I hope you enjoyed it, and don't worry, the torture is over. Time to be happy for a while!

Now…go leave me a review! 


	18. Placeholder

Accidentally uploaded the chapter twice. Placeholder for the next chapter. Stay tuned! 


	19. The Finale: Run Away

****

Past & Present

Chapter 15: The Finale: Run Away

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends", but the world would be a better place if I did.

  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: At long last, after 18 chapters and nearly 100,000 words, we've reached the end. It was important to me to end this on the night that "The One In Barbados" aired again. It ends where it began. Full circle, you might say.

I want to thank every single one of you who reviewed, emailed me, supported me, proofread, beta read, checked my hot scenes to see if they were hot enough, etc. Special thanks to Kristine for being my writing lobster and to the girls of "Something Unexpected" for being my best support system.

If you have EVER left a review or sent me an email, now is the time to do it again. I poured everything I have into this finale to make it happy and full of closure for everyone. I'm pleased with it and hope all of you will be as well.

The songs used in this chapter are "I'm Not In Love" by 10cc and "Run Away" by The Corrs.

Read, review, and enjoy…for the last time.

~*~*~

"How long have they been in there?" Monica looked at the door of Joey and Rachel's apartment.

"Two days." Chandler took his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door to apartment #20. "They're going to have to come up for air at some point." He pushed the door open and held it for Monica. "Like, in about two hours."

Monica set her purse down and glanced at her watch. "Yeah, that's exactly how long we have before it's time to go pick up Ross and the kids at the airport."

Phoebe staggered out the bathroom. "For the record, I never want to eat that potato-pea-onion dish again." She put her hand over her stomach and turned a new shade of green before returning to the bathroom.

"You feel up to taking her to the doctor later?" Monica settled on the couch with a magazine. "I've got to get off my feet for a little while, and I think she's too sick to go alone."

Chandler shrugged. "Sure, I'll take her. After I pick up Ross and the kids. It's going to be a long day."

~*~*~

"Can I get you a refill?" Joey held up the bottle of champagne with a sudsy hand.

"Please." Rachel reached down to the tile floor and picked up a champagne flute. She held it out to Joey on the other side of the bathtub. He poured champagne into it until it spilled over into the bubble filled water.

"What do you call this again?" Rachel selected a strawberry from the basket beside the bathtub.

Joey grinned. "London style, baby!"

Rachel scooped up a handful of foamy bubbles from the surface of the water and blew them at Joey. "They must have bigger bathtubs in London. This is a pretty tight squeeze in here."

"Well, you know, big fancy hotel tubs are a lot different from this, but I'm not complaining." He inhaled deeply. "Now I know why you always smell so good."

"It's nice, isn't it?" She glowed with happiness for a moment. "But you know, Ross and the kids will be back in a few hours, and we'll have to make some changes around here."

"Separate rooms, when Emma's here." Joey took a drink of champagne. "Anything else?"

Rachel leaned back against her bath pillow. "I don't know, to tell you the truth. This is all new for me. I guess we'll handle each situation as it comes along."

He reached across the bathtub and took her hand. "We still got two hours, you know."

She opened her eyes with a suggestive smile. "Do we? What could we possibly do to pass the time?"

When he pulled her wet, soapy body across the tub to land on his, she responded with a laugh and pulled the shower curtain shut.

~*~*~

"Ross!" Monica leapt up from the couch and ran to embrace her brother.

"Hey." He hugged Monica with a weary sigh. 

"Where are the kids?" Monica stepped back and studied him. 

"Chandler and I dropped Ben off with Carol on the way over, and I just took Emma over to Rachel." He paused. "And Joey," he added as an afterthought.

Monica tilted her head to the side. "Are you really ok with this?"

"You know what? I really am. Rachel loves him and he loves her, and I want them to be happy."

Monica patted his arm. "I'm so proud of you. And I know you're going to find the right person someday. She's probably just around the corner, waiting for you."

"Monica, can you help me lace up my boots?" Phoebe called from behind the bedroom door. "I'm going to throw up if I bend over."

"I'll be right there," Monica called back to her before turning to Ross again. "Where's Chandler?"

"He's downstairs talking to some guy from work - we ran into him at the garage." Ross stared at the bedroom door. "She's morning sick?"

Monica shook her head. "No, she's morning, afternoon, and night sick." She checked her watch. "And she has to be at a doctor's appointment in 30 minutes." Monica started for the bedroom but Ross stopped her.

"Let me." His dark eyes pleaded with Monica.

Monica blinked. "Ok - but why?"

"Does there have to be a reason for everything?" He crossed the room and shut the door behind him.

Phoebe, seated on the bed, looked up when he came in and gasped. "Ross!"

He put his hands in his pockets and stared at his shoes. "I really missed you." He raised his eyes to steal a glance at her, hoping she'd say she'd missed him too.

Her skirt was bunched up to the knees, half unzipped. Her boots were unlaced, and her hair hung in tangles around her shoulders. In spite of it all, she managed to be the most beautiful thing he'd seen all day.

"I've got to go to the doctor, and David is still in Moscow." She picked up the hairbrush from beside her on the bed. "Lucky me, I can't stop throwing up - I can't even brush my hair without it making me sick."

Ross walked to the edge of the bed and knelt down. "I've got this under control, ok? You just relax and try not to get sick on my head." He laced her left boot up and tied it. "Too tight?" He gazed up at her.

"No." Her eyes misted over. "Just right."

He nodded and laced up the other one. "How about this one?"

She reached down and placed her hand on his face. "Perfect fit."

Her hand on his face nearly caused him to forget the engagement ring on her finger. If he moved forward just a few inches -

She sensed the change of mood and dropped her hand. "I've got to cut this hair. Maybe I'll go all Bonnie and shave my head." She grimaced and tugged the brush through a section of her hair.

Ross put his hand over hers. "You need to save your energy." He took the brush from her hand. "Turn around."

She complied, and he sat down on the bed next to her. He began to run the brush through her long blonde hair, untangling it carefully before smoothing it down again. 

Phoebe cleared her throat. "Yeah, that looks good." She pushed herself up from the bed and tried to arrange her skirt. "I've got to get going. Is Chandler here? He's taking me."

Ross put one hand on her waist and pulled up her zipper with the other one. "You know who can take you to the doctor?"

"Who?"

His mouth turned up. "Ross can."

He watched her debate the pros and cons mentally before a smile spread across her face. "Ok."

He raised his eyebrows. "You mean it?"

She nodded. "I mean it. I want you to take me." 

He beamed at her. "Let's go, then." He took her hand and led her to the door.

"Yeah, we've got to hurry up. Dr. Fonzie charges me for the whole appointment even if I miss it."

He stopped, wrinkling his face. "You're seeing Dr. Fonzie? Are you crazy?" He opened the front door and stepped out into the hall.

Phoebe shrugged airily. "We built up a rapport."

Ross rolled his eyes. "He's going to insist that you change Roxanne's name to Chachi."

Phoebe's laughter rang out from the hall as she closed the door behind her.

"Yeah, whatever you do, don't explain anything to me," Monica muttered to her magazine. What the heck was going on with the two of them? She hadn't seen Ross being that attentive to anyone since - since -

"Oh my God!" Monica shouted into the empty apartment when the truth suddenly broke through to her. "Ross loves Phoebe!"

~*~*~

"I'm glad that's over." Phoebe let out an exhausted sigh.

"You're fine and the baby's fine, that's what matters." Ross focused on the spectacle of people and buildings whizzing by outside the cab window. Her nearness served as a distraction from any rational thought - a distraction he needed to avoid.

"Thanks for taking me to my appointment." She moved a few inches closer and before he knew it, her head was resting on his shoulder. "You're like the big brother I never had."

That stung. "Brother?" Maybe she could pretend those moments hadn't happened, but he couldn't. "Do you always make out with your brothers in hospital vending rooms?"

She turned her green eyes up to his. "I had my brother's babies, Ross. Think of the implications."

She slipped her hand inside his and gave him a smile of pure contentment, leaving him more confused than he'd ever imagined possible.

~*~*~

Rachel gave the bowl of popcorn one last dousing of salt. "Popcorn's ready."

Joey shifted Emma from his right knee to the left. "We're making room." He patted the space next to him. "Have a seat."

Rachel stopped short, the popcorn bowl in her hand. "I don't know - all three of us in the recliner? You really think -"

"Yeah, I really think. Come on."

Rachel padded over to the recliner and squeezed into the remaining area not taken up by Joey. Somehow, the three of them managed to fit into the chair with relative comfort. 

"What's showing tonight?" He took the popcorn from Rachel and handed her the remote control.

"Little Women - the new version." She pointed the remote at the entertainment center and hit 'play'.

"I don't guess this is a new version where Beth doesn't die?" He squirmed, his face taking on a vaguely uncomfortable expression.

She laughed and settled against him. She'd never imagined that eating popcorn and watching in a video from a chair shared with two other people could be the happiest night of her life. Yet, it was.

It must have had something to do with who those other two people were. She looked at Joey and Emma in the flickering TV screen light, knowing her life could never be better than it was at that moment.

~*~*~

Ross opened his door to see a burly man in a brown delivery uniform. "Ross Geller?"

"Yes," he replied, staring warily at the long, nearly flat package propped up beside the man in the hall.

"Sign on line 10." The delivery man thrust a clipboard at Ross. 

"But I - I didn't order anything." Ross scrawled his signature and handed the clipboard back.

"I don't take notes on this stuff. I just deliver it." He hauled the huge box just inside Ross' door. "Have a good one."

Ross closed the door and dragged the box to the center of his living room. What the hell…

He went to the kitchen and returned with a knife and proceeded to cut the tape holding the box shut. The address label gave him no clue about what it might contain. 

The lid pulled back easily once all the tape had been cut. Whatever lay inside was wrapped in so much plastic that he couldn't discern the contents. His eye seized upon a small white card taped to the top layer of plastic wrapping.

He pulled it free and tore open the envelope.

"For everything you've given me, let me give something back to you. It's time you rediscovered The Sound.

Love always,

Phoebe"

He ripped through the plastic wrapping at light speed. It concealed a beautiful new keyboard.

She never failed to surprise him.

He put the keyboard on his couch and ran his fingers over the slick surface of the black and white keys.

Yeah, he needed to rediscover The Sound - because these days, he had plenty of material for wordless sound poems. Like one called, "I Love Her And Now It's Too Late".

~*~*~

"Zip me up?" Rachel stood in Joey's door, holding her red fishtail dress up with one hand.

"Is my tie on straight?" He gave it a frustrated tug, stopping abruptly to take in every inch of her with his eyes. "You look - wow." He shook his head. "What are you trying to do to me in that dress?"

"If you'll help me with my dress, I'll help you with your tie." She turned her back to him, showing him the gaping zipper.

"Ladies first." He grasped the zipper in his hand and held it motionless. Rachel counted to ten. The zipper didn't move.

"Uh, sweetie? Problem back there?" She looked over her shoulder at him, eyebrows raised in a quizzical smile.

"This thing won't go all the way up." He slid it down an inch. "It keeps going down." And another inch. "It wants to go down."

"Joey? Is there something you'd like to tell me? Or is the zipper going to do all your talking for you?"

He pushed one red spaghetti strap off her shoulder. "As long as zippers are talking, I've got one that would love to have a conversation with you." She breathed in, the scent of his after-shave and hair gel combining with the subtle scent that was his alone, a fragrance that had become synonymous with arousal in her mind. He dragged the other strap down in a protracted motion, his fingertips singeing her skin. Her dress was down to her waist and liquid heat pooled inside her. She bent into the movement when he unfastened her strapless bra to allow his hands stroke the skin underneath it.

This had to be stopped. She looked at the clock beside his bed. "We have to leave for Phoebe and David's rehearsal dinner in less than an hour." Her argument would have been much more effective if he'd stop doing things to the back of her neck with his mouth that sent tremors of anticipation through every part of her.

"Give us a few extra minutes," he murmured against her neck, sliding the satiny red fabric the rest of the way down her body until it pooled around her ankles. Her skin tingled when the cool air brushed against it, heightening her senses.

"I'll have to touch up my makeup again." She pressed her backside against his building desire, gasping when he slid a hand beneath the waist of her underwear. "You're not making it easy for me to keep us on a good schedule here."

He spun her around gently, seeking the warm retreat of her mouth with his. She couldn't say no, not after a kiss like that. Not when his tongue whirled around hers with the sole intention of sending her from neutral to overdrive within seconds. Not when his hands curved over her body with the familiar expertise of someone who'd memorized every pleasure point she possessed.

She tore away from him long enough to pull his tie over his head and drop it on the floor before their lips met again with a driving hunger. She attacked the buttons of his shirt and moved on to his pants.

"You're not going to back out now, are you?" He pushed her back on the bed and let his mouth travel the terrain of her body, searching out new places to explore.

She raised up so he could remove her underwear. "Ok. But this is the last time until we get back from the rehearsal dinner!"

~*~*~

Once again, Ross was alone, pecking out a song from memory on his keyboard.

"I'm not in love

So don't forget it

It's just a silly phase I'm going through

And just because

I call you up

Don't get me wrong

Don't think you've got it made

I'm not in love

No, no…it's because…"

Ross stopped playing mid-song when Monica stormed into his apartment. 

"You're not dressed yet?" She regarded his jeans and t-shirt with suspicious eyes.

"I'm not dressed because I'm not going." He punctuated his words with a flourish on the keyboard.

"I can't believe you're going to let Phoebe down this way." 

Ross slumped back on the couch. "She won't be let down. I'm not in the wedding, there's no reason I should be at the rehearsal."

"How about because she's your friend? How about because you love her?" Monica's voice rose in exasperation.

"You're right. I do love her." His steady gaze underscored the meaning behind what he said. Monica's fears were confirmed.

"Look, honey, I understand how you feel. I really do - but - it's too late now." She walked to the couch and placed a hand on his shoulder. "If you'd reached this point before she got caught up in the Mike and David thing, maybe things would be different now. But - "

"But they're not." He stood up and escorted Monica to his front door. "And I'm not going."

"I'll call you when I get back." Monica gave him a quick hug and left.

He waited for a minute, thinking about what Monica had said. Was it too late? Was there no way of getting through to Phoebe before she walked down the isle?

He wandered back to his bedroom and found himself leafing through his keepsakes box, looking for something, anything, to give him insight.

A single object caught his attention. He picked it up and examined it, an idea springing forward in his mind.

Within minutes he had his materials spread across his desk, hard at work on what might be his last chance.

It was dawn before he put down his pencil and fell asleep.

~*~*~

In the back room of Reverend Pong's Celestial Tea Room, Rachel carefully draped the last filmy layer of Phoebe's bridal veil and stepped back to admire her work. Monica squealed in admiration.

"Oh my God." Rachel put her hand over her mouth, overwhelmed with emotion. "You are so beautiful today!"

Phoebe spun around, the gauzy skirt of her vintage wedding dress drifting around her ankles. "This is the last time I'll ever see you guys as a single woman. Next time we're together, I'll be married."

"Being married is great." Monica joined Rachel and Phoebe. "It's so much better than being single. You'll see." 

Rachel coughed.

"You'll see soon, too." Monica opened her arms. "Group hug?"

The three friends collided in a sea of champagne colored silk and white chiffon.

"You guys, I think I need a few minutes alone, before…well, you know. To collect my thoughts and stuff."

Rachel and Monica nodded and made their way to the door. "Frank, Jr. will be here in about five minutes to walk you down the isle," Monica reminded her before they stepped out.

Phoebe flopped down in the chair facing the dresser. Finally alone with nothing but her anxiety to keep her company.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Almost time…almost time. At least it would be over and she could resign herself to it. 

Someone knocked on the window. Startled, Phoebe turned around and saw Ross staring morosely at her through the glass.

"Ross! What are you doing?" She ran to the window and pushed it up. "Don't you use doors anymore?"

He climbed inside. "Thankfully, you're on the ground floor. Otherwise I don't know what I would have done."

"Why are you back here with me? Why aren't you out front with everyone else?"

"Because." He opened his jacket and took out a stack of paper bound with staples. "I had to bring you this."

She took it from him, examining the brightly covered color. "What is it?"

"The latest issue of 'Science Boy'."

"You came in here right before I'm supposed to walk down the isle and marry David to bring me the new 'Science Boy'? I know you take this stuff seriously, Ross, but really." She shook her head.

"Just…just read it, ok? This is a pivotal issue."

"Ok, but I'm pledging my life for all eternity in about five minutes, so don't get upset if I skim." She flipped open the cover and scanned the page. "Your drawing has come along way since I mugged you."

"You see that science boy meets someone of equal powers to help him in his fight for truth and knowledge?"

"Oh! Yeah!" She squinted at the figure on the page. "Guitar girl?"

He tapped the page enthusiastically. "Yes! Guitar girl is like Wonder Woman to Science Boy's Superman."

"Do they fight crime?" She turned to the next page. 

"Not in this issue." He took a deep breath. "In this issue, they both realize that they belong together."

She closed the comic book with a shaky hand. "I always did learn a lot from Science Boy."

"Phoebe," he pushed her veil back hesitantly. "You can't marry him. You don't love him. If there's one thing I've learned from all my mistakes, it's that you're not doing your child a favor to stay in a relationship that stopped working."

"I don't want to do this on my own." She handed him his comic book. "I want Roxanne to have the family I never had. David can give that to me."

"I can give that to you, too."

She threw up her hands. "Ross, this is crazy! I'm getting married today! Why are you doing this? It doesn't make any sense!"

He caught her hand in his. "I know that this is the only thing I've ever done that makes any sense. You understand me. You challenge me. You breathe life into me when there's nothing left."

"Ross…" She closed her eyes.

"Don't you understand what you mean to me? I've had plenty of time to think lately, and I'll tell you what I figured out." He over-enunciated his words in excitement. "All these years, I've been able to have one dead-end, meaningless relationship after another, because the whole time I've been having my real relationship with you. You're the glue that's held me together, and if I lose you, you and everyone else will see me come unglued."

His words moved her so much that it hurt. "But it's not that simple."

"It is that simple. We already have everything we need, right here, together. I can't let you walk down that isle and marry a man you don't love without telling you that you have another choice." He dropped her hand. "If you can tell me that what you have with him is half of what we have - what we've always had with each other, I'll climb out that window and go home right now."

She stared at him, her heart pounding in her throat. "Yeah, I'm gonna need some paper."

His face went blank. "Paper?"

"I have to leave a note!" She began to rummage through the makeshift dresser. "If we're gonna run out on this wedding, we need to leave a note." She slammed the drawer shut. "I mean, let's use basic good etiquette here, ok?"

"I don't have any paper." Ross patted himself down to double check.

"Nothing? Not even a post-it note?"

"Nothing." He shook his head.

"I can't believe you don't have one tiny scrap I could use for a note."

"Excuse me, but I left my wedding interruptus stationary in my other pants!"

Phoebe stared at the dressing table, demanding it to present a solution. Cookie and Candy struck up the selected music out front.

"We've got to get out of here!" Ross hissed.

Phoebe panicked. She couldn't leave with no explanation and worry everyone. What could she do? Then her eyes fell on Rachel's makeup bag.

"Wait, wait, I've got an idea." She plunged her hand inside the makeup case and took out a cobalt blue eye liner pencil.

"Watch and learn." She threw Ross a coy smile and pulled the cap off the pencil before turning to the mirror and scrawling a few words.

"Sorry I couldn't go through with it. Gone with Ross. Please forgive us," he read out loud. "Is that it?"

"I could compose a little song about it, but since my brother is going to be in here within five seconds, I don't see the point!" 

Ross grabbed her hand and ran to the window. "Can you climb out without hurting yourself?"

She gave him a look. "I lived in a Buick. I can handle this." She shimmied out the window in one serpentine motion. "Hand me my bouquet and my bag!" 

Ross grabbed the arrangement of white roses and the small overnight bag and passed them through the window to her before crawling outside. 

"What now?" She hastily arranged the skirt of her wedding dress. 

"I don't know. I've never done the runaway bride act before." 

"Yeah, where's Rachel when you need her?" She searched the parking lot. "Oh, look! They decorated my grandmother's cab!" Ross followed her gaze to the battered cab, gleefully decorated with tin cans and "Just Married" signs.

Lightbulb moment.

"Pheebs…do you have the keys to the cab?"

"Yeah, they're in my bag." She followed his train of thought. "I like the way you think, evil genius. Where are we headed?"

He put an arm around her. "You know that trip to Atlantic City we both missed?"

"Well, everyone kinda missed it, but yeah."

"Let's take it now." His smile promised the kind of adventure that only the two of them could find together. She nodded and took his hand.

Without a backward glance, they made tracks to the cab.

~*~*~

"Pheebs?" Frank Jr. tapped on the door for the third time. "Pheebs, Rev. Pong is waiting on us. It's time to go."

Silence.

"If you're like, naked or something, can you cover it up? Because I'm gonna come in now." He pushed the door open to discover an empty room.

"Phoebe?" He looked around. Nothing. "Phoebe? We don't got time to play hide and seek right now!"

That's when he saw the mirror.

~*~*~

Joey and Rachel exited the bathroom with guilty expressions. 

"I've never done that in a public restroom before." Rachel smoothed down her skirt and sighed. "We've got to get a handle on this."

"Felt like you had a pretty good handle on it to me." He nudged her and let out a knowing laugh.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." She straightened her shoulders and tried to compose herself. "We have to walk down the isle now, and everyone is going to know we had sex five minutes ago."

"They won't know if you don't tell them." He smiled. "Unless it was so good, you think they'll know it from the satisfied smile on your face."

"Oh my God, my panties are hanging out of your pocket!" Rachel stuffed her hand into Joey's jacket pocket and shoved her underwear down until it was out of sight.

"Rachel! She's gone!" Frank Jr. burst into the the hallway in front of the restroom.

Rachel and Joey exchanged a look. "Who's gone?"

"My sister! Phoebe!" He grabbed Rachel by the elbow and steered her toward the back room. "You better take a look at this."

He led her to the mirror. She read the message and sucked in a breath. "With Ross?" She did a quick inventory of the room. Her makeup case was still there. Phoebe's overnight bag and her bouquet were conspicuously absent.

"The cab!" Rachel ran for the front door, frantically trying to remember where it was parked. 

She reached the parking lot just in time to see the cab pulling out with Ross in the driver's seat.

"Rachel! Rachel, wait!" Phoebe waved frantically at her.

Ross came to a stop and Phoebe extended an arm through the open window. 

"Go long!" Phoebe hurled the flawless bouquet of white roses at Rachel, hitting her smack on the chest.

Before Rachel could recover and process what happened, the cab was gone and she was standing alone in the parking lot, holding her best friend's bridal bouquet.

~*~*~

A hush filled the room when Rachel treaded up the isle with Phoebe's bouquet.

She stood behind the microphone and looked out into the sea of faces. Everyone was there - everyone but Phoebe and Ross.

"Can I have your attention, please?" She leaned in too far and the microphone buzzed, sending her on a shocked leap backwards. "Everyone? I have an announcement." At least Frank Jr. had taken David outside and told him the news, sparing her from the task.

"Um, how do I say this?" She chuckled. "You'd think I'd be the expert, but I wasn't actually there when my wedding got called off." 

A collective gasp came from the assembled crowd.

"Wait! I didn't mean to say it like that!" She groaned inwardly. "Give me the chance to do this right. Please?"

Chandler stood up and faced the crowd, putting a finger to his lips in the universal gesture for 'shush'.

Rachel moved away from the microphone a fraction to whisper at Chandler. "Thank you."

Chandler nodded with a smile and sat down.

Rachel cleared her throat and began again. "Ladies and gentlemen. For reasons of her own, which are not known to anyone right now, Phoebe decided to leave before the wedding with an old friend of ours." Rachel telegraphed a silent message to Monica, whose mouth dropped with astonishment.

"I don't know where they went or why they did this. But I do understand that love can make you take risks and do things you never thought you'd do." She caught Joey's eye and smiled. "So, whatever our personal feelings about this - let's wish them happiness."

She turned to Cookie and Candy. "Do you guys know 'Copa Cabana'?"

~*~*~

"Man! We don't even have weddings on 'Days Of Our Lives' as messed up as that!" Joey tossed his keys down on the bar and took a seat on a stool. Rachel followed him in, still carrying Phoebe's bouquet.

"I wonder where they are right now." Rachel opened the cabinet and took out a bag of tortilla chips. 

"Rach…"

"What, sweetie?" She passed the chips to him. He shook his head.

"Are you - you know, ok with this Ross and Phoebe stuff?" The apprehension in his eyes told her how much he dreaded asking the question.

"Of course I'm ok with it. I want Ross to be happy, and Phoebe needs someone. I hope that it works out for them. I'll be the first in line to congratulate them when they get back from wherever they are."

He instantly relaxed. "Think they'll be as happy as we are?"

She went to the fridge. "Is anyone?" 

She stopped long enough to give him a smile that he understood perfectly and returned.

"We need dessert. What can we have…what can we have…" She bent over to examine the contents of the bottom shelf. "Joey, did you buy a pie?"

He jumped to his feet. "Uh, yeah, kind of. Why don't we eat some pie?"

"Sounds good to me." She pulled the pie from the bottom shelf and placed it on the bar. "We should probably go change first - we've both been known to get messy with pie." She glanced at him. "Why bother with plates, right?"

"Right."

She took two forks from the drawer and handed one to him before prying the lid off the pie dish. "Mmm…this smells like key lime!"

Joey answered with a strange choke in his voice. "It is."

Oblivious to the burning gleam in his eyes, she speared a forkful of pie, sending an avalanche of whipped cream from the top into the empty space her bite left behind.

She shoved it into her mouth with wild abandon and waited for him to take a bite. He twirled his fork around in an uncharacteristic gesture.

"Why aren't you eating?" She spoke through a mouth filled with lime pie. "This is as good as what we had in Barbados." Before he could answer she dug her fork into the pie a second time.

It hit something hard.

"Joey, something's wrong with the pie." She hooked the object on one of the tines of her fork and dragged it to the edge of the dish. "What on earth is this, a Cracker Jack pie? Is this my prize?" She held up a small object completely coated with green pie filling and whipped cream.

"Rinse it off, and whatever you do, don't drop it down the sink."

"I don't know, I've had pretty good luck from stuff going down sinks." She rinsed it off, watching as platinum and diamonds became visible underneath the green and white coating.

She held it up with an unsteady hand. "Joey…"

He rushed to her side. "Don't freak out, ok? You don't have to answer. You don't even have to wear it."

She stared at the engagement ring, mute.

"But it's yours. Yours to hang on to, as long as you want. And when you're ready, you can put it on. We'll go as slow as you need."

She remained silent, her eyes fixed on the ring.

"I guess you need time to think." He backed away.

Suddenly she looked up at him, decision in her clear blue eyes. "No. I don't need time to think."

He didn't dare believe his ears. "Whoa - what are you saying?"

"I'm saying, I don't need to think about this." She pressed the ring into his hand. "Ask me."

"Now? With the wedding today and the pie and -"

"Just ask me."

His eyes wide with disbelief, Joey dropped to one knee and took her hand in his. "Rachel Karen Green, will you marry me?"

"Yes." The word came out in a rush of inexplicable happiness. "Yes, I'll marry you, Joseph Francis Tribbiani!"

"Wow." He sat back on his heel.

"Sweetie, you're kind of forgetting something."

"Oh, sorry." He rearranged himself on one knee and pulled a solemn face. "Thank you."

"No, not that! The ring!" She held out her left hand.

"Oops, sorry about that." He slid the ring on her finger slowly. "It's perfect."

"We're perfect." She pulled him to his feet. "This is perfect and I can't wait to marry you."

"I can't wait to marry you either." He wrapped her in his arms and sealed their engagement with a kiss.

Reluctantly she ended the kiss and leaned back to look up at him. "No, I meant that literally. I can't wait. I don't want to wait. I want to get married now."

His eyebrows went up. "Now? Like, tonight, now?"

"Yeah. Like tonight."

His eyes drifted over her. She was dressed for a wedding. So was he. She even had the bouquet.

But.

"We can't get married tonight. You gotta get the license, the blood test, then the waiting period." He frowned. "Damn. I was getting all weddingy there."

"Who says we have to get married in New York?" She held up her hand to admire the ring. "We can elope."

"We could, but - Vegas is kind of out, for obvious reasons." He propped his elbows on the bar. "Where else do people elope?"

They were both lost in thoughts for a moment. Then Rachel remembered.

"Wait, I've got something under my bed, unless you threw the box away when I moved out." She vanished inside her room.

"Like I'd ever throw away anything of yours." He watched with curiosity when she returned with a handful of brochures, silently giving one to him.

He read it, his pulse increasing with every word. "Yeah, we could do this. Definitely."

"Emma's at my mom's tonight - she could stay there another day or two. Next weekend we're helping Dina move into Mrs. Braverman's apartment. This is the perfect time." Rachel leaned against him, reading over his shoulder. "See? They offer packages - on site licenses, officiants, twenty-four hours a day."

"This means that we could be married by morning." He folded the brochure in a slow, deliberate motion. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"To be married to you? Only for the rest of my life." She gave him a peck on the cheek. "Call the airline?"

"Pack my bag." He went to the phone and dialed while she raced to his room to gather enough clothes for a three day trip.

~*~*~

__

Say it's true

There's nothing like me and you

I'm not alone

Tell me you feel it too

And I would run away

I would run away, yeah yeah

I would run away

I would run away 

With you

~*~*~

"That was the weirdest wedding I never went to." Chandler gathered the last of Monica's borrowed wedding decor and put it in a box. 

"I'm beginning to think we're the normal ones of the group." Monica was interrupted by Reverend Pong coming in. 

"Shame they rented out the tea room for a wedding that never happened." Reverend Pong shook his head at Chandler. "Bad karma to plan a wedding and no one gets married. All sorts of unhappy wedding spirits left hanging around the place, frustrated." 

Chandler's eyes shot from Rev. Pong to Monica and back. "Would any couple getting married appease the wedding spirits?"

Rev. Pong looked surprised by the question. "Why, yes. I guess so. But there weren't any other couples seeking nuptials today."

"What about a renewal?" Chandler handed Monica a basket of flowers he'd retrieved from the top of the piano. "We're already married, but since we've got the tea room for another hour, and you're free…" He turned to Monica. "You up for this?"

"Another wedding? Are you new here or something? I get to be a bride all over again!" She tossed the flowers into the air.

Chandler caught them. "I caught the bouquet. I think this means I'm legally obligated to get married now."

Rev. Pong stood in the center of the dais and opened his book to the correct page. "Whenever you're ready."

"I'm always ready." Monica put her hand in Chandler's.

"Dearly Beloved," the reverend began, "we are gathered here in this celestial sphere as beings of pure light…"

Chandler snickered.

"To witness the merging of this human essence" he gave Chandler a nod - "with this human essence." He finished with a look in Monica's direction.

"Because I always really dug your essence," Chandler whispered in her ear.

And so they were married…again.

~*~*~

__

Cause I

Have fallen in love

With you

No, never

I'm never gonna stop 

Falling in love

With you

~*~*~

"Are we really doing this?" Joey squeezed Rachel's hand, tapping his foot against the floorboard of the cab.

"We're really doing this." Rachel propped her chin on his shoulder. "Nervous?"

"No, you?"

"I'm not nervous at all. I think this is just crazy enough to work." 

The driver looked in the rearview mirror and stifled a laugh at the two crazies in formal wear making out in his back seat.

~*~*~

__

Close the door

And lay down upon the floor

And by candle light

Make love to me

Through the night

Cause I have run away

I have run away, yeah yeah

I have run away, run away

I have run away

With you

~*~*~

"We need a room for tonight." 

The desk clerk at the Taj Mahal glanced up to see a dark haired guy dressed in a suit followed by a radiant blonde in a wedding dress and veil.

"Name?" She'd seen everything by now. Including a few thousand brides.

"Vicrum Mukergee," Ross said.

"Regina Filange," Phoebe added.

"Judging by your outfit, I'd think you'd be Regina Mukergee today." The clerk flashed a distracting gold tooth at Phoebe. "Too bad. I was gonna upgrade you kids to a bridal suite."

"Oh, she's Regina Mukergee, all right. She's as Mukergee as Mukergee can be." He slung an arm around Phoebe's waist. "She's even pregnant!"

"Unfortunately, we don't have a maternity suite." The clerk rolled her eyes at Ross. "You'll have to settle for bridal."

"Do you have complimentary toiletries?" He leaned on the counter and gave the clerk his most sincere puppy eyes.

"Would you like to have some sent up?"

"Yes, thank you." To Phoebe, he whispered "We're going to need a bigger bag."

"Just sign here and I'll process your credit card." 

Phoebe waited patiently until Ross had completed the check in process and sent her bag to their room. She caught his arm and led him to the back exit.

"Look, there's the boardwalk…and the ocean." She stoked his face in a way that was sure to get her every request fulfilled. "Can we go get some of that freaky taffy crap that Mona brought back for you once?"

"Only if I get to eat all the pink ones." He opened the door and they stepped out onto the Atlantic City boardwalk, the wind whipping her veil around to the amusement of the crowd, who smiled indulgently at what appeared to be nothing more than a couple on their honeymoon.

~*~*~

__

Cause I

Have fallen in love

With you

No, never

I'm never gonna stop

Falling in love

With you

~*~*~

The sun rose over the island of Barbados, casting a kaleidoscope of pink and lavender and fiery orange over the ocean. The soft light of dawn threw a luminous sheen over the white sand, and the salty ocean breeze lifted Rachel's hair while it swirled around the hem of her dress. 

The ceremony was simple, on the beach with only Joey, Rachel, the hotel's officiant and two witnesses present. They wore their clothes from Phoebe's wedding and she held Phoebe's fading roses in her hand as they stood barefoot in the surf, unwilling to take their eyes off each other for even a second.

Joey's hand closed around hers while they repeated the vows that would hold them together forever. The officiant said a few words of blessing in his soft rolling accent. Rachel wouldn't remember the words or the witnesses, plucked from the lobby of the Paradise Hotel. She'd remember the feeling of putting her hand in his. The way he looked at her when he promised himself to her and her only. The feeling of making a promise she knew she'd keep. The memory would remain with her for the rest of her life, undimmed by the time.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." The officiant broke out in a toothy grin. "Go ahead, kiss your bride!"

Rachel giggled before Joey caught her up in their first kiss as a married couple. 

"See?" He pulled away and leaned his forehead on hers. "I promised you I'd bring you back someday."

~*~*~

THE END


End file.
